


The Misadventures of Tenzou's Sprouts

by SparrowStrike



Series: The Pack [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Typical Violence, Counseling, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, The Pack AU, Therapy, injuries, the root graduation exam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparrowStrike/pseuds/SparrowStrike
Summary: Takes place in the same AU as Part of the Pack, around chapter 29, but can be read as a stand alone (some spoilers for Part of the Pack). Not necessary to read before the Strength of the Pack, but characters may make cameo's and the backstory here is the backstory Sai will have in the rest of the Pack AU.This story follows the former members of Root as they adjust to a new Commander and life without Danzou. Root training leaves lasting scars, but the people strong enough to survive the training are strong enough to overcome it. Series of mostly one-shots, mostly slice of life. Focuses mainly on the younger Root members and their mentors.
Series: The Pack [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583398
Comments: 50
Kudos: 251





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read Part of the Pack, the important things for this story are:
> 
> 1) Itachi killed Danzou on his way out of the village after the massacre  
> 2) Danzou's sharingan stealing habit came to light shortly after his death and he was appropriately vilified  
> 3) Tenzou is tapped by the Third Hokage to take over Root (Chapter 21 of Part of the Pack for Reference). The ultimatum being he has 3 years to dismantle Root. This means he has 3 years to help the remaining members of Root integrate back into the regular anbu and society. Anyone left after 3 years will be dealt with how the Hokage sees fit for their protection and that of the village.
> 
> For those who have read Part of the Pack, the first chapter of this takes place before Part of the Pack Chapter 29.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Riku acquires his cat and sometime you have to find the right people to talk to.

Deer was an s-rank Root Anbu. He’d completed hundreds of missions and survived interrogation as a prisoner in Kiri. Though only 23 and gangly, people avoided his gaze and stepped out of his path. He excluded and aura of danger, more like a wolf on a leash than his animal mask.

None of that stopped Deer from taking the stairs out of the hospital basement, away from the Anbu assigned psychologist and counselor, 2 at a time. He hated the place. The basement location, with its thick concrete walls and layers of earth, was meant to provide a place of safety where no one could eavesdrop. 

Deer figured it was probably difficult to spy on the sessions, but he would have gladly surrendered some security if it meant not being trapped in oppressive silence. 

The counselor assigned to Deer liked to sit in the silence and wait. It was one of her strategies for getting reluctant patients to talk. Deer hated it. There was no way to hide the sound of his breathing or the soft swish of fabric against fabric when he moved. He felt exposed.

The counselor had been pleased when he said as much. She called it a break through, being able to identify and express the way he felt about the quiet. She’d then been quiet, leaving him in that silence again, until he offered her some other tidbit to analyze and discuss.

Deer gritted his teeth. The woman’s words echoed in Deer’s mind as he rounded the corner in the stairwell. 

“Conditioned to repress emotions, desires, personality, and pain… Unable to trust and difficulty understanding empathy.”

Deer called it survival skills. You either learned to build a dam between yourself and all those things or you didn’t survive Root. You didn’t take on other people’s sadness and problems, because it could overflow the dam. All that mattered were the missions. Danzou always said it was orders not empathy were meant to drive Root. 

As for the trust issues, Deer had learned not to trust unexplained kindness the same way he learned to dodge a kunai. It was a lesson reinforced with pain. Nothing was free. 

So when the new Commander decided to have their division meeting early today at a nice restaurant and insisted on buying all of the Root division anbu food, it set off alarm bells. Deer couldn’t figure out what the commander was getting out of things like this. Deer had said as much to the counselor and she’d looked at him with pity, like he was some damaged child.

Deer rounded another corner. He was a finely tuned weapon. He couldn’t be anymore useful, so what did the Commander want? Why would the Commander spend money feeding them when the cafeteria in the anbu compound provided them with nutritionally optimal meals?

“Maybe because he cares about you?” the counselor had suggested.

And that was the cruxs of Deer’s issue. He didn’t buy it. 

“It might not be about being useful. Maybe he’s been through the same sort of things you have and he knows that this helped him?” the woman had suggested.

Deer had just shook his head. 

She had tried to get him to talk about what he ate, what he liked and didn’t, how sharing a meal felt. Was the meeting boring? 

Deer gave as little information as possible while remaining compliant. 

He didn’t trust the woman not to report back to the Commander, but it was the Commander who had ordered all the Root Anbu to take the psychological evaluation. Danzou had never permitted it. Deer assumed that was because their intense training meant they would never pass the evaluation. Apparently, they all failed in a spectacular fashion.

Now, Deer was stuck meeting with a woman determined to poke holes in his dam.

\---

Deer burst out onto the street and immediately ducked down the nearest alley. He was jittery. He’d said more than he intended to and the thought of her repeating the way he had questioned the Commander’s motives back to the Commander made Deer’s heart race. Danzou would say he’d shown weakness and there would be consequences. Weapons didn’t second guess orders, didn’t shy away from missions, and they certainly didn’t question the man who wielded them. 

_ But Tenzou isn’t Danzou _ , Deer reminded himself.

With that, Deer did what he knew how to do best, he shoved the thoughts away and headed for the training grounds to work the nervous energy out of his body.

The sun was setting when Deer left the training grounds. In his mind, the rest of the evening was laid out. He would go to the cafeteria, order the same thing he always ordered (it had the most nutritional value), return to his apartment, go over the new mission options, and sleep early. It was the same schedule he’d followed most evenings since he graduated and became a full member of Root. 

Deer slipped through the long, evening shadows with a practiced ease. Even in the crowded market he could pass unnoticed. It brought a warm sensation in the pit of his stomach to pass inches from a stranger, to be able to observe a man haggle for a better price on a block of cheese and see a child beg for sweets. 

With a bit of thought, Deer decided the feeling was pride. Thinking about Root and Danzou created a knot of thoughts and feelings in Deer’s stomach that he couldn’t even begin to untangle, but little things like this he could handle. Regardless of what Deer felt about the process and the man that had made him what he was, he was proud of the skills he possessed.

A woman pushed an infant in a stroller passed Deer. The baby was a chubby thing with a lick of light hair. It babbled happily, showing off its first tooth.

Someone bumped the stroller and the baby dropped its ball. The woman didn’t notice and the baby’s face fell, but it didn’t cry.

Deer picked the ball up and began to tail the woman. He didn’t really know why he took the time to deal with this, but it just seemed right. Maybe he could offer this to the counselor next session. It would be a harmless interaction even in Danzou’s eyes. 

When the woman turned to look at a store window full of dresses, Deer slipped the ball back to the infant.

  
The baby’s face split in a wide grin and it waved its round little fists at the masked man. To a baby, the mask with its swirls of green was pretty and interesting.

Deer melted back into the shadows before the woman noticed him. Civilians typically didn’t like it when anbu took an interest in their babies.

Deer decided he liked the way he felt when the baby smiled. Despite his caution, his dam was leaking. Deer knew that he needed to be careful, but once in a while it felt good to feel.

That night, Deer lay in his bed and struggled to slip into the warm embrace of sleep. He told himself this was his punishment for letting his control slip.  _ Things _ were sloshing over the dam. His mind wouldn’t stop analyzing everything. He replayed every second of his session with the counselor and cringed at the lack of control he’d demonstrated. He’d asked such stupid questions. 

Then his mind flickered back to the lunch. It had been a string of minor social blunders and disasters ranging from startling the waitress with his silent entrance to thinking he wasn’t meant to eat to not know what he was expected to eat and how to order. 

Deer rolled onto his side and hugged his chest. His body ached, sore but also full of energy that couldn’t be run off. His chest was tight and it was hard to breath. 

Deer wished he could ask someone about this, wished someone could explain what he was feeling and more importantly how to make it stop, but he couldn’t. His throat was full of words he couldn’t bring himself to say, at least not to anyone affiliated with the anbu, and his mind was full of things he didn’t know how to articulate.

How could he trust Amaya or anyone else affiliated with the anbu not to report back to the Commander? How could he trust the Commander to not see this as weakness and to either use it against him or as a reason to remove him from service?

Deer didn’t sleep much that night.

Come morning, Deer broke his routine.

The sun was barely up and the cobblestone streets were still wet with dew when Deer left the apartment complex that housed the anbu. The civilian part of the city was mostly empty this early, so there was no one to see Deer leave the shadows and duck in a small stone building near the hospital.

Shima Haruto was a small, elderly man. He’d been a shinobi 2 wars ago, before he lost his right leg below the knee. Since then, he’d gone back to medical school and focused his studies on the mind. He split his time between the hospital, counseling mostly shinobi and trauma victims, and his private practice where he worked with mostly civilians. 

He’d never been affiliated with the anbu in any way that Deer was able to establish and that made him as close to perfect as Deer could find.

Haruto arrived at his office to find the front door already unlocked. His hand went to the kunai pouch that he still wore on his thigh, but fell away when a figure in a familiar uniform detached itself from the shadows inside the waiting area.

“Can I help you?” Haruto asked.

“I hope so,” Deer replied.

“Why don’t we go in my office, I’ll put on a pot of tea, and you can tell me what brings an anbu black-op here?”

Deer nodded and followed the doctor to a small room off the waiting area.

Haruto’s office wasn’t anything like offices the anbu assigned psychologists, counselors, and therapists used. Where their spaces were stark and bare, without distractions or places to hide, this place was crowded. The chairs were big, soft things with pillows and Haruto’s desk was littered with papers and framed photos. The walls were a cheery yellow and pictures of the forest hung beside what was obviously a small child’s artwork.

Deer could hear the world outside beginning to stir. Haruto hummed to himself as he puttered around the room, collecting mugs and setting the electric kettle on to boil.

Deer relaxed. Everything about the cluttered, and slightly chaotic, space seemed to help slow his racing mind. He looked at the photos of Haruto’s family. A wife, a daughter who appeared now grown, and a dog. They all seemed happy. An older photo, grey and slightly faded, showed what Deer could only assume was Haruto’s shinobi team. 

A younger Haruto, recognizable by the shape of his face and the way his ears stuck out just a bit, had his arm slung around another boy. They were both grinning while a third boy laughed and pulled a goofy face.

Haruto caught Deer looking. “My team,” he confirmed. “By some miracle, we all survived that war. Had a good chunk of years together before the 3rd came along and I lost them.”

“I’m sorry,” Deer said. His heart clenched and his fingers curled into fists and he stifled the memories and emotions that suddenly surged through his mind.

Haruto shrugged. “Such is the life of a shinobi. The village needed them more than I did.”

The callous response surprised Deer. He shifted, unsure if he was disappointed or relieved. Maybe the man would help him return to his previous state as a perfect weapon.

The man noticed the shift in Deer’s posture. “Don’t get me wrong, I miss them dearly. I still feel their absence as clearly as my leg. When they left for war and I had to stay behind I was angry. When they didn’t come back I was so heartsick it nearly killed me. But it’s part of being a shinobi and part of loving another shinobi. Death is always on the table.”

Deer nodded. He decided he liked Haruto. Objectively that seemed to be a healthy way point of view.

“But you didn’t come here to hear an old man ramble. What can I do for you Anbu?”

“I have questions. I need help,” Deer said.

“Don’t you anbu have your own doctors and therapists? The best of the best?” Haruto asked with a frown.

Deer fidgeted with the hem of his cloak. “I can’t…” the words stuck in his throat. He tried again. “I can’t make myself trust them. I choose my words too carefully and don’t say what I need to.”

  
Haruto nodded. There was understanding in his eyes. He remembered the first time he’d come back to the village injured. As was protocol at the time, he had to take a psychological evaluation before he could return to the battlefield. His Sensei had coached him on what to say to pass. It was hard after that to be honest. He knew what it was like to feel that the truth was the wrong answer.

“You can say what you need to here,” Haruto promised.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” Deer said it without an ounce of emotion.

Haruto nodded. “Sounds fair.” He poured both of them a bug of tea and settled into the chair behind the desk. “I’ve got 3 hours until my first appointment, so why don’t we get started. Tell me whatever you want to and we can fill in the gaps as we go.”

Deer nodded and when he started talking, the words wouldn’t stop coming. “I feel like I’ve been cut and the stitches won’t hold anymore. Everyday they tear and I can’t take it anymore.”

Haruto was a good listener. 

When Deer finally trailed off, Haruto refilled their mugs without a word. 

Only after Deer had taken a drink and the mug steadied in his trembling grip did Haruto really respond. “You must be an exceptionally strong man.”

Deer blinked in surprise. It wasn’t the response he had expected.

“You didn’t mention the specifics of your training, but based on the results, the fact that you survived makes you something special. The fact that you have the will to even try to take control of your life now is a testament to your strength.”

“Why can’t I breathe? Why can’t I sleep?” Deer’s voice was rough with exhaustion.

“It’s called anxiety. You’ve been in survival mode for so long that your mind is looking for threats where there aren’t any. It’s so convinced there is danger that it sends adrenaline to your system,” Haruto explained. 

Dear frowned. “How do I make it not?”

Haruto smiled sadly. “That is the million dollar question. There’s no easy answer. Talking to people can help reduce your anxiety levels, so can keeping a journal, exercising, and painting. There are a variety of tricks for snapping yourself out of a full blown attack. It will take some time to figure out what works for you.”

Dear sighed. “I don’t trust people, I already write everything in my personal logs, I physically can’t train anymore, and I don’t paint.”

“People are a challenge,” Haruto agreed. “What about talking to something else?”

Deer cocked his head to the side and frowned. 

“I have found animals to be better listeners than people on many occasions and my wife airs her problems to the tomato plants.”

Dear snorted at that. 

Haruto shrugged. “Don’t mock it until you’ve tried it. Same with singing or knitting.”

  
The man bent over to dig in one of his desk drawers, “I have a list of things that may help reduce your anxiety levels and/or help you escape the clutches of an attack. Perhaps you can try them out over the next few days and I will see you again on Friday. If you need to talk earlier, I can make time for you.”

Deer nodded and accepted a sheet of paper from the man. 

Deer left the office through the back door into an alley. Haruto hadn’t blinked an eye at Deer’s request for a quieter escape route. The front door opened onto a busy street that was now crowded with civilians.

Deer jumped from rooftop to rooftop feeling like he could breathe for the first time since Danzou died. He wasn’t irreparably broken, there was a name for what he was feeling, and a way to manage it. If the anbu counselor, and possibly the Commander, were hellbent on poking holes in Deer’s dam at least Haruto would teach him how to swim.

\---

Deer returned to his routine for the day. He trained alone, pushing his body to its limits. When he hit those limits earlier than usual, likely due to his lack of sleep, Deer returned to the anbu compound, intending to eat early and spend the evening studying the material Haruto had given him as well as a book on infiltration tactics he had borrowed from another Root.

As Deer neared the building, a cacophony of sheiks and snarls erupted in an alley. In the blink of an eye, Deer had a kunai in his hand and his back toa wall in a defensive stance. 

It took a second for Deer to realize there was no one else in the area. There were no human chakra signatures in the vicinity and no visible threat. The assessment didn’t stop Deer’s heart from racing.

The noise continued, so Deer shoved aside his instinctive response, did his best to ignore the adrenaline in his blood, and followed the noise.

Behind a dumpster, 2 large cats were mauling a third, much smaller feline.

Despite its size and the disadvantage of numbers, the third cat was fighting hard. 

Deer watched for a second. It was obvious the third was going to lose. It was slowing down as exhaustion and injury caught up with it. 

One of the bigger cats pounced on top of the smaller, trying to pin it and biting for the neck.

Deer stomped his foot and whistled. The cats hadn’t heard him approach and his proximity along with the noise startled them.

The 2 big ones bolted, leaving Deer and the panting, battered cat to stare at each other.

The cat was caked in mud and blood, it’s color unidentifiable. One ear was half missing and one eye was either gone or hidden beneath heavy swelling. Its breathing was labored and blood oozed from deep gashes on its side. 

Deer wasn’t so sure all the injuries were from the other cats. Not that it mattered. The thing was going to die. It would be too weak to hunt or defend itself. Either hunger, infection, or another predator would finish it off.

The cat didn’t know that. It struggled to its feet, bared its teeth, and hissed at Deer.

Deer raised an eyebrow behind his mask. It’d be cruel to let such a determined fighter die slowly and painfully. He drew a kunai again.

As he drew his arm back, a series of images flashed through Deer’s mind. A training arena, another boy standing in front of him, Danzou smiling, confusion and then fear on the other boy’s face, blood.

Deer dropped the kunai. It clattered to the ground and the cat flinched. Deer shuddered. 

The cat just watched him with wary eyes.

It was too injured to dodge with Deer lunged forward and scooped it up.

\---

  
Deer stood in the alleyway for several seconds with 10 pounds of angry, injusted, scared, feral cat in his arms before his mind caught up with his body. 

By that point, the cat and dug its claws into his forearms and was doing its best to either tear Deer apart or escape his grip.

Deer sighed. He’d committed at this point, might as well follow through.

There weren’t many people in the lobby of the apartment building that housed the majority of the anbu. Those that were there had seen stranger things than an anbu lugging and screeching, filthy cat.

“You know in Iwa the biggest predator is a cat. Rock lions have been known to hunt genin teams when they get hungry enough,” Deer told the cat. “Unfortunately for you, you are just a cat. You lack the necessary size and bulk.” 

The cat dug its claws into Deer’s chest and hissed. “This is what I get for being kind,” Deer muttered. “Empathy sucks.”

He carried the cat up three flights of stairs and subjected it to further indignity, hugging it tight with one arm so he could open the door to his apartment. This gave the cat access to Deer’s previously unmauled side.

Inside, Deer went straight for the bathroom. Still clutching the cat with one arm, he turned on the bath. “Trust me, this isn’t going to be fun for either of us, but it’s this or you die and I guess neither of us are okay with that option,” Deer apologized. Then he put the cat in the bath. 

Eventually, the cat gave up screaming and clawing and let Deer scrub it clean. Dirt, grime, and blood darkened the water.

As it all swirled down the drain, Deer’s mind flickered back to the alley. He hadn’t thought about his final exam in years. He’d spent an hour in the showers afterward, trying to wash off the blood.

A sharp pain jolted Deer back to the present. The cat had bitten down on the meat of his hand.

Deer nodded to the animal. “I agree. Bathtime’s over.”

Next, Deer wrapped the cat in a towel and used the towel to restrain the animal while he dressed its wounds. 

Wounds stitched, ointment applied, and bandages wrapped, Deer released his unwilling house guest.

The cat scrambled across the bathroom tile, trying to put distance between itself and Deer. 

Under all the grime, it was orange. One eye, one ear, half starved, and suffering from heavy blood loss and it was still determined to fight a man 10 times its size. 

Deer could respect that. He opened the bathroom door, letting the cat dart out into the rest of the apartment. 

Deer stripped off his uniform. He cleaned and bandaged the cat’s handiwork. In the scheme of life as an anbu, the pain was minor, but respectable all the same.

“I’d hate to fight someone with cat summons,” Deer mumbled. He wondered if cats would consent to being summoned. They seemed ferociously independent.

Finished patching himself up, Deer hazarded a glance in the mirror. His bareface stared back, as emotionless as his mask. 

Deer had wondered when he was first assigned his animal mask if it was because of his hair-- short, utilitarian cut, and light brown. It was still the only logical reason, he could come up with to this day.

Hesitantly, Deer touched his cheek. He followed a scar from his cheek up to his hairline. He’d been lucky that shuriken had missed his eye. Still, the rest of the fight he’d been blind on that side from the blood. Danzou had worried over that cut, afraid that if it got infected Deer would lose the eye, and the Danzou would lose one of his newest soldiers.

A crash in the kitchen made Deer wince and shove aside his thoughts. 

He stepped out in time to see the cat lift its leg and pee on the potted plant it had knocked off the counter. 

“Well, you’re definitely a boy,” Deer muttered.

The cat hissed. 

“I suppose that’s fair.”

\---

Deer didn’t see the cat again the rest of the day. When he lay down for the night, sleep again was reluctant to come.

Old memories refused to stay behind the dam and the sting of many scratches kept Deer from finding the necessary focus to regain control. 

The boy he’d killed all those years ago had a name. He was Riku and he’d been Deer’s friend. They’d trained together, shared their meals, and even slept side by side. Then Danzou set them against each other. 

Deer tried to remember other things about Riku, anything but the way he died. 

Riku had a loud laugh and a chipped front tooth that whistled a little when he snorted. 

When Danzou brought Deer to Root, Riku had already been there for a few months. He comforted Deer when the younger boy cried over parents whose faces he couldn’t even remember.

  
Riku showed him how to hold a kunai and smuggle extra bread out of the cafeteria in his sleeve. 

“I always wanted a little brother,” Riku had said with a mischievous smile. “You and me are going to do great things. Together we’re going to be the best shinobi in the world. We’ll fight together and never keep secrets from each other. Okay? You can tell me anything.”

Deer hugged his chest and sobbed until sleep and exhaustion claimed him.

There was no peace in dreams.

Deer found himself in darkness with a familiar ghost.

“What’s wrong, Yuuto?” the ghost of Riku asked.

“It hurts,” Deer whispered. He pressed a hand to his chest.

Riku’s ghost made a sad little tut. “Of course it hurts. You blew up the dam.”

Deer whimpered. The space shifted. From the black nothingness, walls solidified. Deer was in the interrogation room in Kiri. His arms were chained to the wall above his head and there was no way out. He was unarmed and there was no one coming for him.

“Well this is dreary,” Riku’s ghost said. “How’d you get out of here last time?”

“Paper bombs. I had them in my sleeves,” Deer said. He didn’t know why he was talking to a ghost that existed only in his mind about a problem that existed only in his mind.

Riku smiled. “Like the bread.”

“I don’t have any bombs, now.”

Riku raised an eyebrow. “You sure? You blew that dam sky high.”

Deer just shook his head.

Riku’s ghost moved to sit beside him. “You know you’re dreaming right?” 

Deer nodded. “You’re dead.”

Riku rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but what would be the fun of being dead if I don’t get to haunt you occasionally?”

Deer choked back a sob. More details of the room became clear. There was a table of interrogation tools just out of kicking range and a heavy metal door in the far wall. A small window, little more than a slit in the stone wall, let in a draft of cold, damp air. The smell of the ocean mingled with the stench of fear and old blood.

“Think of your emotions and feelings as paper bombs,” Riku started. “They can be dangerous if you don’t use them right. Danzou taught us to store them properly, in the supply room, in the village, under lock and key. That way, they can’t hurt us, but they can’t help us either.” Riku stared at Deer with wide, expectant eyes. 

“I don’t get it,” Deer mumbled. He’d thought the same thing when the anbu therapist said those same words in their last session. He hadn’t bothered to say anything then.

Deer was hyperventilating. The door could open at any moment. He couldn’t take anymore torture. 

“If you learn to control your emotions, to feel and want without letting your emotions and desires rule you, they become a weapon,” Riku explained. His voice was gentle. “The things we love can be a source of strength and inspiration.”

Tears ran down Deer’s face and he couldn’t breathe. 

“Even anger and sadness have a strength to them.”

“What if I’m angry at myself?” Deer gasped.

Riku smiled sadly. “Forgive yourself. Be angry at the one who deserves it. Use that anger, but don’t let it consume you. Use it to fuel your revenge. Get better. Help others.”

Deer could hear Danzou laughing. 

“Blow up the dam. Blow up the chains. Blow up the whole damn world if that’s what it takes to move forward and rebuild. I’ll help you.”

Deer gasped. He could smell a paper bomb burning. Riku was grinning like the pyromaniac he’d been in life. Deer squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the explosion that never came.

\---

Deer woke up laying on his back. His face was wet with tears and there was a warm weight on his chest.

Deer blinked in confusion. 

A single, yellow eye stared back.

“If I try to touch you, you’re going to bite me aren’t you?” Deer asked.

The cat let out a soft “murp” and began to purr. 

Deer took that as an agreement. “It’d be a matter of pride at this point,” Deer supplied for the cat.

The cat purred harder. 

The low rumble reverberated through Deer’s chest and knocked loose all the knots and lumps. 

“What a pair we make. Emotionally stunted, anxious, and let’s not even get started on the trust issues,” Deer babbled. “You ever dream about the other cats you’ve fought?”

The cat just blinked at him.

Deer sighed. Sleep was tugging at his mind. The one sided conversation wasn’t enough to hold it off.

This time though, Deer dreamed of good things. Playing tag before kunai were involved, prank wars in the barracks, successful missions, and lunch at a nice restaurant. Through it all, there was an odd, warm, weight on his chest.

\---

Deer had taken to calling the cat Riku. It felt right, even if it seemed sort of morbid on the surface. The human Riku didn’t haunt his dreams again. Either he found peace or Deer had, maybe a bit of both.

Deer didn’t see much of Riku-the-Cat those first few days, but the canned chicken he set in a bowl on the floor disappeared along with the water he left out. The litterbox he improvised from a storage bin was also being used regularly.

Deer talked to the cat all the time and it did help. He found that what he said to Riku he had an easier time voicing to Haruto. 

When Deer crumpled to the ground beside the couch, wracked with anxiety, Riku emerged from the gloom beneath the furniture to offer moral support and a light swat on the hand, minimal claws were involved.

When the night terrors became too much, Deer always woke up to a cat on his chest.

One day at a time, Deer learned how to swim. From a cat of all things.

Deer wondered if rock lions knew how to swim. A book on Iwa said they could. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is new chapter as of 4/30/20. I realized I had events out of order in my initial plot outline and this needed to happen before Chapter 29 of Part of the Pack, so I added it in. This starts with Megumi's POV of the events in chapter 22 of Part of the Pack.

Megumi lay in bed unable to sleep. The bed was soft and the blankets were warm. She’d slept in a lot of worse places, so she didn’t understand why sleep refused to come. 

Megumi shifted from her side to her back and stared up at the ceiling. This was the third night in a row. If she’d had the option, Megumi would have taken a blanket and returned to the Root barracks, but now the barracks were empty. The youngest Root anbu had been moved to different housing, someplace warmer and brighter. The older Root had all been placed in standard anbu housing, like Megumi, or moved elsewhere in the village. 

Minutes passed while Megumi tried to focus on her breathing. Her mind wouldn’t settle. She’d told herself this was going to be a good move. For the first time in 19 years, no one was watching over her shoulder and the freedom had sounded intoxicating the way the new commander described it.

And what had Megumi done with that freedom in the week she’d had it? Buy a journal, one of those expensive leather ones, and a single civilian outfit. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to write in the journal or wear the clothes. 

Megumi sighed heavily and sat up.  _ It’s too quiet _ , she realized. On missions, there was almost always the wind or rain or the crackle of a campfire and even when the world was silent, there was always the sound of her partners breathing.

The silence reminded Megumi of missions gone wrong, of waking up on the floor of a drug den in Suna and unable to tell where her blood ended and her partners’ started. They’d been gone by the time she’d come around.

Megumi shuddered and stood up. She knew she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. Not with the quiet and the memories.

Megumi weighed her options. Her mind was exhausted, but unable to turn off and her body was heavy with fatigue. She’d run laps around the village for hours before sunset, hoping to finally fall into her new bed and sleep. Anymore running was out of the question.

“If you ever need anything, you can show up at my door anytime,” the new commander’s words echoed in Megumi’s mind. He only lived one floor down. She could throw a kunai onto his balcony if she wanted to.

Megumi sighed. “Guess it’s time to see if he really means any of those promises he keeps making,” Megumi said to her empty apartment.

Megumi didn’t bother to put on real clothes. She braided her long, brown hair down her back. Megumi even left out the strip of metal spikes that she usually braided into it. Last, she pulled on her mask. Red bird. 

Megumi slipped through the hallway quietly. Bare feet were silent on carpet. The one other anbu she passed nodded a greeting that she returned.

Less than a minute later, Megumi found herself standing outside the commander’s door. The reality of the situation finally sunk in. It was almost 11 at night, she hadn’t slept for almost 72 hours, and she was standing outside of the commander’s door in purple, cotton pajama pants with little bunnies on them.

Megumi almost turned around and went home right then. The thought of facing another sleepless night stopped her.

Megumi knocked on the door and waited.

When the commander opened it, still dressed in his usual anbu gear, he just stared for a heartbeat. Confusion quickly turned to concern.

“Is something wrong?” Tenzou asked.

Megumi tilted her head to the side. He sounded so genuine. It was odd. Megumi shook her head and fiddled with the end of her braid. She hadn’t really expected to make it this far and now she didn’t know what to say.

The commander’s face softened. The little wrinkle between his eyebrows that he got when he was worried faded. “Do you want to come in for tea?” Tenzou offered. 

Megumi nodded.

Tenzou smiled. “You’re welcome, but I do have other company.” He opened the door wider so she could see the two boys in the living room. One was blond and the other dark haired. Both stared curiously.

Megumi nodded again. Children didn’t bother her.

“I’m watching them for Kakashi and it’s exam week at the academy so I’ve been helping them study,” Tenzou explained as Megumi stepped inside.

He pointed her at the table and headed for the kitchen, nudging the boys as he passed them.

The blond was the first one to approach the table and Megumi. He had an easy smile and a missing front tooth. Megumi knew who he was. She could feel the unusual swirl of his chakra and of course she knew that Hatake had acquired the child vessel of the Fox. 

“Hi,” the Fox child said with a grin. “I’m Uzumaki-Hatake Naruto. It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Megumi nodded her head and shook the offered hand. The kid had a firm handshake. Megumi nodded her approval. Hatake had taught the child well.

The dark haired kid approached next. He bowed slightly before offering Megumi a handshake too. “Uchiha Sasuke. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You can call me Megumi.” 

Both boys smiled.

Megumi caught the commander in the doorway from the kitchen, blinking in surprise and trying to suppress a smile. 

Megumi felt like someone had kicked her in the chest.  _ He means it. He really means all that crap about doing things different. _

Tenzou set four mugs, 3 types of tea, and hot chocolate powder on the table. “The water will finish boiling soon. I can also put on a pot of coffee if you want,” he offered.

Megumi shook her head and watched the boys each grab a mug. Naruto dumped hot chocolate powder in his and Sasuke chose chamomile tea.

Megumi hesitated still. She shifted to face Naruto. “Is it good?” She asked

Naruto frowned slightly. “Hot chocolate?” He clarified.

Megumi nodded. “I haven’t had it before.”

“Ummm… Yeah. It’s good. At least I think it is, but I really like sweet things. Sasuke doesn’t like a lot of sweet, so he doesn’t really think hot chocolate is all that good,” Naruto explained. “Do you like sweet things?”

Megumi shrugged and poured a packet of hot chocolate mix in the mug closest to her.

Naruto looked like he wanted to ask a question, but they were all distracted by the whistling teapot.

“What are you studying?” Megumi asked while Tenzou poured the hot water.

Naruto’s face lit up as he explained the topics on tomorrow's history exam. 

“I didn’t go to the same academy you do, tell me more about it?” Megumi asked between tentative sips of hot chocolate.

“What do you want to know?” Naruto asked.

Megumi shrugged. “Anything? Do you like school? Like training? Are there lots of kids in your class?”

Naruto’s grin widened. “I like school okay, but my favorite parts are when we get to do real training on the obstacle course or target range.” He launched into a story about the obstacle course. 

Megumi could only follow half of it and she had no idea who any of the other kids Naruto mentioned were, but the enthusiasm in Naruto’s voice and the way he talked with his hands made her smile. He was so animated.

The Uchiha didn’t speak much, but he provided his own sort of commentary to Naruto’s story in the form of eye rolls and the occasional smile.

One story bled into another and time slipped by. Megumi finished her hot chocolate without realizing it. When Naruto yawned, Megumi glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. She’d been there for more than an hour.

Megumi set her mug down and stood up while Naruto mumbled something unintelligible through another yawn. “You should go to bed since you have an exam tomorrow. Sleep is important.” Her own eyes were finally feeling heavy and the nervous energy that had driven her down here had faded.

“So did you like hot chocolate?” Naruto asked.

Megumi cocked her head to the side and thought for a second. “Yes. I liked how sweet it was.”

Naruto beamed. “Next time you should put marshmallows in it.”

Megumi nodded.

Tenzou followed Megumi into the hallway. He knew the Root anbu wouldn’t just show up at his door for no reason. “Do you need anything?” He asked in the quiet of the hallway.

Megumi shook her head. “No. I couldn’t sleep. It’s quiet in my apartment. I miss hearing the others’ breathing. The quiet sounds like death.”

Tenzou nodded. “I felt the same way when I first moved here from the barracks. Are you comfortable opening your window? I found that the wind helps.”

Megumi shook her head again. 

“Okay. How about running a fan by your bed?” Tenzou suggested.

“I don’t have a fan.”

“I have one you can use. See if it helps and then you can buy your own if it does,” Tenzou said it like an order. If he left room to argue, Megumi would. None of the Root anbu liked to accept help without being told the cost upfront. “Like you said, sleep is important. I need you to be sharp and on your game, because we never know when we might be needed,” he reminded Megumi. 

Megumi’s shoulders relaxed slightly at that. There was a limit to how much unexplained kindness she could handle at one time. 

When Tenzou returned with a box fan, Megumi accepted it without hesitation, but she lingered in the hallway. “The kids aren’t like us,” she said at last.

Tenzou snorted. “Yeah. I told them their exams sounded like fun and then realized I couldn’t really explain the sort of exams I had when I was their age.”

“It’s good. They won’t grow up like us. I just hope they aren’t too soft as shinobi,” Megumi agreed. “And even if they do end up softer, I think their way is still better.”

“They’ll grow up soon enough and then life will make them harder. It’s nice for now though, to get to watch them be kids.”

“Thank you for letting me interrupt,” Megumi said with a half bow.

Tenzou smiled. “Anytime. I’m your team leader. I’m here to help you.” He hesitated and then decided to push it a little bit. “I like Megumi.”

Behind her mask, Megumi hummed softly. “I picked it out of a book.” Then she turned and padded off down the hallway.

Back in her apartment, Megumi plugged the fan into the outlet in her bedroom and pulled the blankets off her bed. She made herself a makeshift bed on the floor next to the fan.

The steady drone reminded her of the rain and the hard floor was far more familiar feeling than the soft bed.

Megumi was asleep in minutes.

\---

Two days later, Megumi lingered after the Root meeting, waiting for the others to leave.

Tenzou saw her and nodded. He wouldn’t leave without letting her speak.

Again, Megumi found herself thinking how odd it was. Danzou never volunteered his time to his soldiers. Megumi had always assumed it was due to the many responsibilities the position entailed, but Tenzou somehow always seemed to make time for his soldiers. 

“How are you?” Tenzou asked when the others were all gone and it was just him and Megumi in the conference room. He’d found his fan outside his door the day before with a note that said it had helped. Megumi seemed more rested.

“You offered to show us our files,” Megumi said.

Tenzou nodded. He had. It had been while he was arguing with one of the other Root, the man didn’t believe any of them had ever had a life outside of Root. 

“I would like to see mine.”

“Okay,” Tenzou nodded. “If you want to walk with me, we can go grab it out of the office now,” he offered.

Megumi froze. Again, he followed through on a promise Megumi had half dismissed. 

Megumi followed Tenzou through the building to his office. The door still had Danzou’s name beside it.

Tenzou frowned at the name as he walked through the door. 

Megumi noticed and it brought a smile to her face, yet another bit of evidence that Tenzou really was going to change things. 

Tenzou dug through one of the many file cabinets until he found the folder he was looking for. It didn’t have a name on it, just a shinobi identification number. He held it out to Megumi who just stared at it.

“It’s yours. The anbu office has copies of all the medical files and paperwork they need.”

Megumi tugged on the end of her braid, but didn’t take the folder.

Tenzou sat on the edge of the desk and motioned for Megumi to do the same.

Hesitantly, Megumi sat beside her commander.

“Are you worried about what you’ll find or what you won’t?” Tenzou asked softly.

“I don’t know. I have no idea what’s in it.”

“Danzou kept notes on all of us, where we came from, what sort of potential he saw in us, details of our training, and that sort of thing,” Tenzou explained.

“Did you read yours?” Megumi asked. Her voice was emotionless.

Tenzou sighed. “No. I watched him drop it in the trashcan and burn it the day I left Root.”

Megumi didn’t know what to say to that. 

Tenzou slid the folder onto her lap. “If I had the choice, I’d read my file.”

Megumi picked the folder up carefully, like it might bite. “Why?” she asked.

Tenzou shrugged. “Curiosity. I guess I’ve always had an issue with asking questions. It’s why I left Root. If you don’t want it now, I can keep it safe here.”

Megumi shook her head. Tenzou had offered her answers to questions she didn’t know she had. Why had Danzou picked her? What was her purpose in his grand vision? 

“I didn’t think you’d actually give me this,” Megumi admitted.

Tenzou let out a humorless chuckle. “None of you ever believe me.”

“Sorry.”

“No. No. It’s fine. I get it. Trust is earned.”

Megumi looked down at the folder in her hands. “I trust you. Your way is better.”

Tenzou smiled at that. The corners of his eyes wrinkled and it was such a warm expression, Megumi found herself smiling back.

Danzou’s smile had been a dangerous thing, like a razor blade. 

“What do you want from us?” Megumi blurted out.

“What do you mean?”

“Danzou had a vision for the village. He needed us to shape and protect his vision. What about you?”

Tenzou leaned back a bit and frowned, trying to pick his words. “I suppose I have a vision too. On the surface, it probably looks a lot like Danzou’s. I want to protect the village.”

Megumi nodded.

Tenzou shook his head. “But when I say I want to protect the village, I don’t mean our way of life or the status quo or even the place we call home. I mean the people. Without the people, a village is just a bunch of buildings.” Tenzou explained.

Megumi nodded again.

“And I don’t want to keep the village the same. I want it to change. I want it to be better and given time and peace, it will get better,” Tenzou said with the force and conviction of a man who’d found the hill he would die on. 

“So the Root unit will remain the silent foundation of the village’s defenses?”

“Yes, but also no. Danzou kept Root separate from the village. The way I see it, you are the village.”

Megumi considered the words and implications for a minute. To be part of the village was to be something worth fighting for. What sort of person fights for the weapons?

“You’re an odd person, Commander,” Megumi said dryly.

Tenzou laughed. “I suppose I am. I’m no Danzou. I’ve never been a leader before. I don’t like politics. I’m not great with words or people. I believe the phrase poorly-socialized has been used to describe me more than once. I don’t know why I was picked for this job, but I’m going to make the most of it while I have it.”

They lapsed into silence. 

“Do you like being an anbu?” Tenzou asked. He had decided that turnabout's fair play.

“Yes,” Megumi said without hesitation.

“Do you mean that or…?”

“I mean it. I might not have chosen the life if I hadn’t grown up in it, but I wouldn’t choose to leave it now. I like having important work to do. I like protecting the village. I like the challenge.”

Tenzou smiled. “So what made you ask for your file?”

Megumi shifted and didn’t answer right away.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Tenzou added quickly.

“I wanted to see if you’d actually give it to me and I wanted to see if the things I think I remember from before are real or if I just imagined them as a coping mechanism during the early days of training.”

Megumi was playing with her braid again. The metal spikes woven between the strands of hair glittered in the sun. Danzou had tried to break her of the habit. He’d had her head shaved twice. It hadn’t stopped her, just like no amount of T&I could erase the hazy image of a small house in a field of flowers, the soft clucking of chickens, and the smile of a little girl. It was all Megumi had of her life before Root, assuming they were real memories. She’d clung to them in the darkest days.

“I hope the answers you’re looking for are in there,” Tenzou said.

Megumi left soon after.

\---

Megumi didn’t open the folder that night. Instead she took the journal off her desk and finally cracked the cover.

She sat on her makeshift bed on the floor with the fan humming softly, closed her eyes, and tried to remember. 

Megumi wrote down every detail of those pre-Root memories. No one would try to take them from her now. They’d be here whenever she wanted to deal with them. Just like the folder.

Then, Megumi found herself thinking about the other things she didn’t want to lose. On the next page, she wrote, “Things I love…”

Megumi smiled. It was childish, but she decided that was excusable, considering she hadn't had the opportunity when she was a child. 

_ Fresh baked bread, the feeling of running, purple (like the sky just before dawn and fresh bruises and black plums), the rose garden in the park by the hokage Sarutobi house, hot chocolate… _

\---

Two days later, curiosity got the best of Megumi and she opened the folder. Most of it was of little interest. Of her life before Root, there were only two lines in Danzou’s clear, clean script. 

“Brought the girl from Shirakawa. She shows no particular aptitude for any of the shinobi arts, but she surprised me once. Perhaps she will do so again.”

Megumi read the words over and over.  _ Why me?  _ Was all her mind could ask. There were other notes, later, about her skill with a blade and the way she could melt into the world around her, “a natural talent for going unseen whether in the forest or the heart of a city.” Clearly, she hadn’t been picked for that though.

“The girl from Shirakawa.”

Megumi told herself it didn’t matter where she came from. Any life she might have had there was gone, but she found Shirakawa on a map in the library anyway. Her curiosity was like a mosquito bite she’d bumped on accident. She could ignore it as long as she stayed busy, but in the quiet moments, she found herself wondering if there was a house in Shirakawa surrounded by wildflowers.

Megumi took a mission in the land of grass, checking on a group of shinobi who had been agitating for conflict with the bigger nations. They thought winning a few fights against Konoha or Iwa would boost their reputation and the economy.

Megumi thought it was a supid thing to die for and she had no doubt that when she reported back, the next mission Tenzou assigned would be an assassination. 

Someone tipped the grass shinobi off. Megumi fled the village with them on her heels. No one could catch Megumi when she ran (it was a point of pride for her) and they lost her in the scrub brush where the grass grew up to 6 feet tall.

Meguni spent 3 days slipping from scrub patch to scrub patch back to the border. 

On the second night, she pressed herself into a shallow depression in the ground. The wind was howling, hiding the sound of her hunters. She didn’t dare press onward.

It was cold. She was hungry.

Megumi closed her eyes and thought of her list. First thing when she got home, she was going to buy a loaf of fresh bread-- the sort with the seeds on top and honey baked in-- and hot chocolate, the kind with marshmallows in it.

\---

Megumi returned home safe. 

Tenzou seemed pleased even though she brought bad news. The next Root meeting went as Megumi expected. The commander asked for volunteers to eliminate the threat.

Megumi sat in her seat and stared at her hands in her lap. It made sense for her to go back. She knew their hideout, their guard schedule, and their faces. Danzou would have ordered her to go.

Tenzou didn’t order anyone to take assassination missions.

Monkey, Boar, and Blue Bird volunteered.

Tenzou gave them Megumi’s mission report. All the critical details were in there.

As the others left, Megumi stayed in her seat.

“How are you?” Tenzou asked when the others were gone.

“I should have volunteered to go back.”

Tenzou raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure the medics wouldn’t clear you. You were running a fever less than 24 hours ago.”

“Just a cold,” Megumi dismissed.

“Did you want to go?”

Megumi tightened her hands into fists. They trembled in her lap. “No. I don’t like assassination missions.” Megumi’s voice was small and she ducked her head, like she was expecting to be hit.

Tenzou sighed. “Me neither. Sometimes they’re necessary, but if there’s someone else who is capable and willing, I’d never fight them for the job.”

Megumi looked up sharply. She narrowed her eyes. The commander had a lot of assassinations on his record.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tenzou muttered. “I said I don’t like them, not that I won’t do one. I’ve done enough to know I’m not a fan. I hate wasting lives.”

Megumi nodded slowly. “It is a waste isn’t it?”

Tenzou dropped into the seat beside Megumi. That was the question he’d been asking himself since he’d read her report. “It’s a waste for them, but not for us. Killing them quietly will prevent conflict from escalating. It’ll keep this generation of kids from seeing war, keep genin off the frontlines.”

Megumi nodded slowly. “It’s worth it then.”

“I would have asked you to go if I thought it was necessary,” Tenzou said.

Megumi wasn’t sure why, but that made her feel better. 

“You should get some rest. Take a couple days to get healthy and relax,” Tenzou half suggested and half ordered.

“Could I have the week off?” The words were out of Megumi’s mouth before she even considered them.

Tenzou shrugged. “Sure. You’ve definitely earned it.”

“And it’s okay if I leave the village?”

“Uhhh… yes?”

Megumi stood up quickly. She wanted out of the room quickly, in case the commander changed his mind. “Thank you.” Then she was gone in a swirl of air.

Tenzou laughed out loud in the empty conference room.  _ One of them at least seems to be figuring this out. _

\---

Megumi packed quickly. It was still before noon. She could be well down the road before dark. 

Megumi pulled the spiked strip out of her hair and redid the braid. She dressed in most of her anbu gear, but left off the heavier, kevlar vest. If it weren’t for the ceramic mask, she could pass for an ordinary shinobi dressed all in black.

Megumi set the mask on her desk and headed for the door. She couldn’t make herself open it. Her head felt too light. She felt exposed.

Mumbling a curse to herself, Megumi grabbed the mask off the bed and pulled it back on. Maybe, by the time she made it to Shirakawa she would be able to put the mask in her bag and walk home without it.

No one questioned an anbu with her backpack leaving through the front gate.

Night began to fall and Megumi abandoned the road. She set up camp in a small clearing by a stream. 

With a small fire burning, she ate a pack of freeze dried rations and put a little kettle on the fire.

Munching on freeze dried pork, Megumi wondered why people were so opposed to rations. They really weren’t bad.

When the water was hot, Megumi pulled a box out of her bag. She’d found the hot chocolate in the grocery store on the top shelf. The package said it had mini-marshmallows in it.

Megumi thought it was cute the way the little marshmallows bobbed when she stirred the drink. When they disappeared, she used a spoon to search the cup, thinking they’d sank. It became apparent that they’d dissolved into the drink.

Megumi kicked herself for being disappointed and took a sip. It was sweeter with the marshmallows and that mostly made up for the vanishing.

_ Next time I’ll buy some big marshmallows, so they don’t disappear so quick, _ Megumi thought to herself. It made her smile. She wasn’t even sure what exactly a marshmallow tasted like.

\---

Megumi woke up the next morning with a fierce head cold. Her sinus felt like they were stuffed with cotton and her whole face hurt. Then there was the runny nose and sore throat. Sinus gook had to go one way or the other and while the troat hurt, it was less annoying then dealing with a runny nose under a mask-- not that the cold asked Megumi’s opinion.

Megumi stopped at the next little town she ran across and bought cold medication. The old woman running the pharmacy seemed to find the concept of an anbu with a cold funny.

Megumi moved slower. She stuck to the road rather than running through the canopy. The cold meds dulled her senses.

Megumi stopped early for the night. She found a thicket of blackberry bushes around a flat topped boulder. The boulder was all but hidden from sight and unless you could climb one of the nearby trees and drop onto the boulder, reaching the boulder would require wading through the brambles.

Megumi thought it was a pretty perfect campsite. She snuggled into her sleeping bag, ate her ration, and tore open a package of hot chocolate to pick the marshmallows out. They were firmer than she had expected, almost crunchy.  _ Odd, but sweet _ , so Megumi didn’t complain.

The wind rustled the bushes. In the distance an owl hooted. It was cold, but the sleeping bag was warm. Megumi slept soundly all night and well into the next morning.

Megumi felt better when she set out midafternoon, but she didn’t push herself. The day was nice, sunny and warm enough to be pleasant without being hot. Sunlight filtered through the boughs overhead and the air was full of bird song.

Megumi found herself smiling beneath her mask.

Midevening, Megumi arrived in a small town at the base of the mountains. She was only an hour or two from Shirakawa, but she wanted to approach the village in daylight and the terrain was bound to be rougher as she started climbing.

The town had an inn and an Udon restaurant. 

  
Megumi paid for a room and went straight to the restaurant. 

The place was full, but not packed. Megumi got a seat at a small table in the back corner and ordered a mushroom Udon. She could feel curious eyes on her, but not one seemed hostile.

A girl a few years younger than Megumi brought the anbu’s food. She had fiery red hair that threatened to escape the bun on top of her head and an easy smile. 

“We don’t get many shinobi out this way,” the girl said when she set down the bowl.

“Probably a good thing,” Megumi said with a shrug. “Shinobi usually follow trouble.”

The girl laughed. “But not you?”

“I’m on my way home. Just stopping for the night.”

“You’re from Konoha?” The girl’s face lit up. “I’ve always wanted to visit. Is it as big as they say?”

Megumi smiled under her mask. “I’ll tell you about it if you tell me what you’ve heard about Shirakawa.”

“Deal.” The girl dropped into the seat opposite Megumi. “What’s your interest in Shirakawa? They’re even more out of the way than we are.”

“It’s where I’m from. I haven’t been home in a very long time,” Megumi fiddled with her braid. It felt both odd and right to call a place she didn’t really remember home.

The girl nodded. “Shirakawa’s small. Less than a 1000 people last count. There’s not really a road between here and there. It’s more of a path over the mountain. It’s steep and rocky. Not a lot of trade comes or goes through Shirakawa, because of the mountains. They’re pretty much self sufficient. The houses are unlike anything else, but I haven’t seen enough of the world to really confirm that. They’re pretty, shaped like triangles. Everything is made of a beautiful red wood that never rots and it smells like fresh sap even years after being milled.”

The girl smiled fondly. “You picked the right time to come. The flowers should be just about in bloom. Because it’s in a river valley, the ground’s really fertile, so everything is green and growing. They have the most amazing wildflowers.”

Megumi nodded eagerly. The more she heard, the more her heart ached for this place. 

“So what’s Konoha like?”

Megumi considered her answer. “Vibrant,” she settled on at last. “It’s never totally quiet. Even in the dead of night, there’s still people moving around. There’s a lot of variety. As the different clans settled, they added to the village, so we have a mix of different sorts of building, food, and culture.”

“This probably sounds shallow, but I want to go shopping there,” the girl said.

Megumi shook her head. “That’s a good reason to visit. Since the last war ended, trade routes have expanded greatly. The shops get things in from all around the world.”

The girl sighed. “I think if I ever visited I wouldn’t be able to leave.”

“It can get overwhelming with all the people.”

“Do most shinobi wear masks?”

“No. I belong to a special division. We do undercover work and the masks protect our identity.”

The girl mouthed “wow.”

Megumi laughed. “It’s not that impressive.”

The girl pointed at her chest. “It is to me.” Then she gestured at the rest of the restaurant. “This is my whole world. I know every bump in the road. Most of these people have known me since I was born. Traveling the world, secret identities, heroic missions-- it’s the stuff of daydreams.”

“I think your world seems pretty good. Quiet, reliable.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “You say that now, but give it a week and you’ll be going mad with boredom.”

Megumi laughed. 

“Akemi!”

The girl looked over her shoulder. A man in a cook’s apron with the same red hair standing at the counter frowning.

The girl sighed. “And that’s my cue to get back to work. You should stop by on your back to Konoha! I want to know what you think of Shirakawa.” Then she was gone.

Megumi ate her Udon. She swiveled the porcelain mask just enough to uncover her mouth.

“I was wondering how you were going to eat with that thing,” a man at the next table said with a smirk. 

Megumi figured him in his 30’s, with the first hint that his hairline was planning an escape.

Megumi’s first instinct was to shy away, but there was no malice in the man’s face.

“There’s an art to it,” Megumi said at last. “If you get food on the inside of the mask, you’re stuck smelling it for days.”

The man laughed. “Never would have thought about that. We don’t get many shinobi around here, even less anbu black-ops.”

Megumi froze. The fact that he recognized her uniform was unusual and it sent a chill down her spine. The man was watching her closely. 

“Last time we had some of your people through here, I was a kid. We had a bandit problem,” the man explained. “My friends and I played anbu and bandits for ages after that.”

Megumi relaxed.  _ Not a spy, just another curious civilian _ .

Megumi slept little that night. She couldn’t stop replaying her hazy memories.  _ If I get there and nothing is familiar, it’s going to hurt, _ Megumi thought. She’d tried so hard not to get attached to the idea of having a home in this hidden paradise, but her heart refused to be practical.

\---

Megumi was on the road at first light. The hike was as steep and rugged as Akemi had promised, but for an anbu it wasn’t an issue.

By 10AM, Megumi was standing overlooking a long, narrow valley. Shadows still clung to the bases of the mountains. Smoke curled from chimneys into the morning sky.

It was as green as she’d pictured. 

Megumi picked her way down to the valley floor. The grass grew waist high and was dotted with flowers-- purple, red, orange, yellow, pink, white. Megumi felt like she’d stepped into a dream.

The path wound its way from the mountain to the riverbank and then onto the village.

Megumi paused at the riverbank. She felt lightheaded. She needed a minute to get her bearings.

There was a log on the bank that overlooked a still pool. Megumi sat down and slipped her mask off. She stared down at her reflection. It distorted slightly as a water skipper crossed the pool.

Would someone recognize her if she walked into town like this? Would someone be able to tell her where the little scar in her eyebrow came from? Did she look like her mother or her father? What about the little girl from her memories? Was that her sister? They had the same pointed jawline.

Megumi sat on the river bank for a long time.

The sound of laughter startled Megumi from her thoughts.

On instinct, she pulled her mask back on and stood to face whoever was running down the path from the village.

Two boys, maybe 10, came barrelling out of the grass. They staggered to a stop and stared at the anbu in front of them. Both of their jaws dropped.

“Hi,” Megumi said with a little wave.

“Are you a shinobi?” the lead boys asked. He had brown hair and was missing a tooth.

Megumi nodded.

“Cool,” both boys said in unison. 

“Do you think you could point me in the direction of your village leader?” Megumi asked.

They did one better than that. The boys led her into town pelting her with questions. Was she from Konoha? Did she have any kunai? Could they see one? Could they hold it? Why was she in Shirakawa?

Megumi kept her answers short. “Yes. Yes. Yes. No. I’m looking for someone.” Her mouth was dry and her heart beat faster with every step towards the village.

“Are you looking for a criminal?”

“A friend. Family.”

Megumi could see curtains twitch as they passed the first houses. By the time they arrived in the center of town, a small crowd had gathered.

“Hidari! Gin!” A woman called and motioned for the boys to come to her. There was a note of urgency and fear and in her voice that made the boys go without complaining and Megumi was left standing alone in front of 20 or so villagers.

One man stepped forward. 

Megumi’s first thought was that if anyone here was a threat, it was him. He was built powerful and even though the dark hair at his temples was streaked with gray, the way he walked reminded Megumi of an experienced shinobi.

The man stopped a few paces from Megumi. He folded his arms and stared her down. 

Megumi was acutely aware of the fact that she was not a large person and she was dangerously exposed. She fought the urge to draw a kunai.

“What can we do for you anbu?” the man’s lip curled slightly on the word anbu.

Megumi blinked in surprise. After the last town’s friendly curiosity, the open hostility here was stark and concerning. “I’m looking for a family--” Megumi started.

  
The man cut her off. “Where’s the rest of your team?”

“It’s just me. I’m not here on a mission,” Megumi soothed.

“Why should I believe that? You waltz into our village unannounced with your eyes on our kids and you expect me to believe you’re just sightseeing?”

Megumi resisted the urge to grab her braid. “I’m looking for a family. They have at least one daughter--”

Again, the man cut Megumi off. His face was red with suppressed anger and his voice was hard. “Leave. Now.”

Megumi stood straighter and looked the man in the eye. “I’ve come a long way. I’m not leaving until I have the answers I--.”

Megumi didn’t get to finish her sentence. Something whistled through the air and she dodged on instinct.

A woman had thrown a large stone at the back of Megumi’s head and she had several others in her arms.

_ Enough of this, _ Megumi thought. Faster than the others could track, Megumi was in the woman’s face. 

The woman froze and Megumi took the stone from her hand. The others slipped out of her arms as she staggered back, trying to put distance between herself and the anbu.

Megumi turned back to the man. He’d gone pale. Megumi stalked up to him. She held the stone out to him and he took it with a look of extreme discomfort on his face. 

“It’s rude to attack a guest,” Megumi said. Her voice was emotionless.

“You’re not a guest. You’re a monster,” someone yelled.

Megumi glanced in the direction of the voice and the man struck. His fist caught her in the stomach, but Megumi rolled with the punch. She staggered backwards and tripped over the thrown stone. 

Someone threw another rock and this one caught Megumi in the side of the face. It split her cheek and she could feel the blood running hot.

People were yelling.

Megumi could feel warmth running down both sides of her face. She reached a hand under the mask and her fingers came back wet, but not with blood on the side of her face that hadn’t been hit.

Megumi realized she was crying.

A different memory swam in front of her eyes. 

People yelling. Looking up a man with a scared face.  _ Danzou _ , Megumi realized. He took her hand and the yelling stopped. They were in the town square. 

Megumi shuddered.  _ I am from here _ , Megumi thought. Her mind felt foggy, disoriented.

The blood was sticky inside her mask. Megumi tugged the mask off.

People were still yelling, but it sounded like they were underwater.

Megumi pushed herself back up to sitting. 

The world swam in front of her eyes.

A new figure was between her and the man. They had their back to Megumi. All she could see was long, gray hair.

“Are you crazy? Attacking a shinobi? We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t come back with reinforcements to arrest us all. If you kill her, Konoha will march on us. Is that what you want?” the gray haired figure demanded. Their voice was raspy and familiar.

“Grandmother, she’s here for our children. She said she’s looking for a girl.”

“I think she’s my little sister,” Megumi said. 

She climbed to her feet, mask in had. She felt naked and exposed, but the concussion she undoubtedly had dulled those sensations. Hard to have an anxiety attack when your brain’s been scrambled by a rock.

“I don’t know her name, but she was maybe 4 the last time I saw her. She’d be 22 or 23 now.”

Everyone was staring at Megumi.  _ I hate this _ , she thought, but plowed forward because they were finally listening. “She had straight, black hair cut around her shoulders and a pointed chin like mine. She sometimes wore a yellow smock and her family kept chickens.”

The gray haired figure was staring at Megumi in open horror.

Megumi could now see that the figure was an old woman. She’d been tall once, but age had bowed her back and she leaned heavily on a cane.

“Nariko?” the old woman asked.

Megumi shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know her name.”

The old woman shook her head. “No. The little girl was Tori. Nariko was your name. You look just like your mother.”

Megumi felt like all the wind had been knocked out of her. A rush of memories surface. The image of the little girl expanded into a whole scene.

Megumi was chasing the other girl and the other girl was chasing a chicken. “Tori! Leave the chicken alone. Listen to your sister.” Megumi knew the voice belonged to her mom.

Megumi blinked at the old woman. She opened her mouth to say something. Instead, she ended up puking.

The old woman was on her in an instant. “Someone help me get her inside. She’s hurt,” the woman ordered.

The next couple hours were hazy.

Megumi came back to herself tucked in bed. There was a bandage on her cheek and an ice pack on her head.

“Looks like you’re back with us,” the old woman said from a rocking chair beside Megumi’s bed. She had knitting needles in her hands.

Megumi pulled the icepack off her head and sat up.

The room she was in was quaint, but cozy. A fire crackled in a stone hearth. The walls were the natural red of the wood and they did smell like fresh pine, just like Akemi had promised.

The man and the woman who had thrown the first stone were both sitting at a small table, looking thoroughly embarrassed and chastised.

“Thanks for not throwing more rocks,” Megumi muttered. It was the first thing that popped into her head.

The old woman cackled and the other two ducked their heads. 

Megumi spotted her mask on the end of the bed and pulled it back on. Someone had cleaned all the blood off.

“I take it your last experience with anbu wasn’t a positive one.”

“They commandeered our village, paid for nothing, killed 2 of our hunters for supposedly helping the bandits, and demanded one of our children as payment for services rendered,” the woman said. Her voice was bitter.

“Kimiko,” the man warned.

“Don’t talk to me like that. You didn’t have to comfort Mari afterwards,” the woman spat.

Megumi sighed. “If it’s any consolation. The man who did all that is dead and we’re under new, better leadership.”

The 3 villagers stared at Megumi in surprise.

“As of like a month ago,” Megumi added. 

“Is that why they sent you home?” Kimiko asked.

“No one sent me. I found the village name in my file and I was curious.”

“Nariko,” the old woman started.

“Megumi.”

The woman looked at Megumi in confusion.

“My name’s Megumi now.”

The old woman nodded slowly. Her eyes were full of tears. “Megumi, I’m sorry. Your family isn’t here anymore. They spent 4 years living in fear that the anbu would come back for Tori. 15 years ago, they left in the middle of the night. No one knows where they went.”

Megumi’s heart sank. “I see. I suppose that’s fair.”

The old woman reached out and took Megumi’s hand. “Do you remember me?” she asked.

Megumi shrugged. “You feel familiar. Everything here does.”

“I used to watch you when you were small.”

“Can you tell me more about my family? Why did the anbu choose me?” Megumi blurted out the questions, not caring that she sounded desperate.

The old woman nodded. She turned to the other 2 villagers. “Reo, Kimiko, why don’t you say what you want to say and give us some time.” It wasn’t really a suggestion.

The two stood quickly and bowed to Megumi. “Please accept our sincere apologies. We only wanted to protect our people.”

Megumi tipped her head in response. “You have nothing to apologize for. I understand your desire to protect your home and your families.”

The pair left quickly. 

“Reo and Kimiko have a son your age. Everyone with children remembers the day the anbu took you like a nightmare,” the old woman explained. “Reo was chosen to lead the village a few years back. He’s a good man, if a bit on the brash side.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t see much conflict out here. He’s hotheaded and he doesn’t listen. He’d be a terrible commander.”

The old woman laughed. “You really sound like your mother. Mari was always practical and blunt.”

“What’s your name, Grandma?”

“Sara, but you’ve always called me Grandma.”

“Why me?” Megumi asked again.

Sara stared at Megumi’s mask. Her mouth was a tight line. “They didn’t want you. They wanted Tori. Tori was always a special girl. She loved to sing and when she did, it was the most beautiful sound. Everything around her would stop to listen. She could charm deer out of the forest with a song.”

Megumi’s eyes widened behind her mask. A natural gift for auditory genjutsu was a rare and powerful thing.

“When the man came to take her, he made it to the edge of the village. You came bursting out of the grass behind him and hit him in the back of the knees with a stick. We thought his soldiers were going to kill you.”

Megumi didn’t remember any of the story, but she could picture it. 

“He just laughed. You told Tori to run and he let her go. He said you were very brave and asked if you wanted to learn to use a real sword.”

Sara looked away from Megumi. “You were such a brave child and you loved Tori dearly. You looked him in the eyes and asked if he was going to take Tori if you said no. He said yes and you took his hand just like that. No one even got to say goodbye to you.”

Megumi didn’t know what to say to that. She wracked her mind for the memories, but they were lost to time.

At last, Megumi sighed. “Thank you, Grandma.”

That night, the village threw a feast to celebrate the return of their lost child. Megumi met friends of her parents and the people who had lived next to her.

She was presented with different treats and told she’d used to love them.

It was overwhelming and as the night wore on, Megumi slipped into the shadows. The adults were all tipsy enough that no one missed her.

Megumi’s feet took her down the track towards the river. On the edge of the village, there was one house a little ways from the others.

The roof needed re-thatched and the door was slightly ajar.

Megumi’s head ached.

The chicken coop had fallen down. 

Megumi opened the door.

The family had left most of their life behind. The soft furniture, couches, mattresses, and the like were gone. Probably taken by another villager, but the dining room table and the bed frames were left.

Megumi wandered the house. There was no rush of memories, just a thrill down her spine like someone was walking on her grave.

Megumi found a picture, fallen under the coffee table. It was a little water damaged, but Megumi could make out a man, a woman, and 2 children in the meadow in front of the house.

“So you found your way home,” Reo said. He was standing in the doorway, watching Megumi. His voice was slightly slurred from alcohol.

“I guess I did,” Megumi said.

“You could have killed us.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Reo laughed. “Then I guess you must not be a very good shinobi. Aren’t anbu supposed to be emotionless killing machines? Do they know you’re defective?”

Megumi cocked her head to the side. 

“Nariko died years ago. The anbu killed her. At best, you’re a shell of her. At worst, you stole the story.”

Megumi nodded. “Nariko did die. She died with innocent blood on her hands and Red Bird was born.” Megumi stepped closer. “Then Red Bird died with Danzou. And yet I’m still breathing.” She stared at Reo. The man flinched under her gaze. 

Megumi looked away. “I’m just trying to figure out who I am now and what I want to become,” she said. Her voice was soft and wistful.

Reo swallowed hard. The way Megumi moved was unnatural-- silent and too fast. “Why do you keep wearing the mask?” 

“Habit. Feels safer.” Megumi shrugged. “I picked it a long time ago and I’ve always liked it. I think it might have reminded me of home.”

As she said it, the slightly demonic, stylized bird face on the mask took on a different tone. It did bear a striking resemblance to a crudely drawn chicken. Reo sighed. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed his face and groaned. “You’ve given me no reason to treat you this way.” The day had been a comedy of errors on his part. The girl in front of him might be an anbu, the village’s own real life boogeyman, but she was also human.

“It’s okay. Anbu make people nervous. I’m used to it.”

Reo shook his head. “You deserve better, especially in your own home. Let me make it up to you. Let me show you around Shirakawa.”

Megumi nodded.

\---

  
Megumi spent 3 full days in Shirakawa. After the initial trouble, it ended up being as Megumi had hoped. 

Reo showed her around the whole valley and the surrounding forest. He took her to the small lumber mill and taught her about the trees. The red cedar that grew on the easter slopes of their valley was the village's livelihood. They tended to the trees religiously, culling them in groups and replanting, so as to not decimate the forest. 

The wood itself had a place in the village’s mythology. The valley hadn’t always been peaceful. In the warring states period, it had been the site of a brutal battle. No one remembered who had fought who, but the story said the river ran red with blood and the first stand of trees grew from the graveyard. That first stand was never cut and offerings were laft under its boughs before each harvest. 

Walking amongst those original trees, Megumi felt very small. They were bigger than any tree she’d ever seen before, but instead of being unnerved it left her with a sense of wonder, like she was a child again. 

Reo watched the anbu slip between the trees, brushing her fingers against the bark. Her touch was reverent and that’s when it clicked. Even if she wasn’t their stolen child, Megumi’s heart belonged to Shirakawa.

When Megumi laced up her sandals for a morning run, Reo joined her. He led her on the trails around the valley to the waterfall on the far side and home through the meadow. 

The air was clean and fresh and the only sounds were bird song and the rhythic pounding of feet on hard packed earth. Megumi lost herself in the sensation. It was freeing.

Megumi spent a lot of time in the meadow on the edge of the village. 

Now that she wasn’t a threat and their parents weren’t concerned, the kids flocked to Megumi. They wanted stories.

Megumi sat in the meadow and let them put flowers in her braid while she told them about far off lands-- the spice market in Suna, the lighthouses along Kiri’s coast, and the city carved from a single block of stone in Iwa.

In the evening, Sara told Megumi stories. The old women went door to door and rounded up everyone who had known Megumi’s family to tell the anbu stories over dinner.

Kimiko, Reo’s wife, had lots of stories about Megumi’s mother. The two women had grown up next to each other and were childhood friends.

On the second night, Megumi found herself sitting at Grandma Sara’s table with Reo, Kimiko, and a few of the other older villagers.

“You aren’t like any shinobi we’ve ever met.” 

Megumi wasn’t even sure who said it. It was a funny thing, to be the first and probably only shinobi these people would ever get to sit and talk with. All future shinobi would be judged against her words and actions.

Megumi chose her words carefully. “I’m a bit more broken than most, but generally not different. Suppressing our emotions, especially on missions, is a defensive tactic. Same with avoiding bonds and entanglements. The people you love are vulnerabilities. The cold, emotionless persona shinobi use is just a mask.” She brushed her fingers over her own mask.

“It sounds like a lonely life,” Kimiko said. “Are you happy in Konoha?”

Megumi considered her answer. “It can be lonely.” She tugged on her braid and thought of the bad days, the missions gone wrong, the missions gone right, the blood and the ghosts. “It can be cruel, violent, painful, and unfair. But it’s also rewarding. Everytime I return to Konoha, I pass the academy and I see the kids playing there and I know because of what I’ve done, they get to grow up in peace.”    
  
“But are you happy? Is it a life you want to keep living?”

“I think I’m learning to be happy,” Megumi said thoughtfully. “With our new commander, I have the freedom now to choose and shape my life. I’m willing to gamble on my ability to make it a life I want to keep living.”

On the third day, Megumi was laying in the meadow, watching a bumble bee move from flower to flower when the realization hit her. 

Megumi was happy. She was well rested. She’d had no nightmares since she left the village. Every muscle in her body was loose and at ease. She’d never realized how much tension she carried in her shoulders until it was finally gone. Megumi could breathe easy and there was a sense of peace in her chest.

On the fourth day, Megumi said her goodbyes. Most of the village was there to see her off.   
  
“You could stay,” Reo said it without a hint of hesitation. It was a genuine offer. They would find a place for a former shinobi in the village. If she wanted she could set down her weapons and never pick them up again or she could train the villagers, make sure they could protect themselve. 

Megumi shook her head. “I have a life in Konoha. People who need me. They may not be blood, but they are a family of sorts.”

“But you’ll come back,” Sara didn’t say it like a question. “Bring your family with you.”

Megumi was pretty sure if she showed up with her Root family in tow Reo would have a heart attack, but she nodded dutifully. “Yes and if you ever need anything send for Red Bird and I’ll help.” 

Reo walked Megumi to the base of the mountains.

“I misjudged you,” he said. “I think I may have misjudged shinobi in general.”

“Maybe next time give them a chance to talk before you initiate defensive maneuvers.” Megumi said it lightly, teasing.

Reo pulled a small pouch out of his pocket and handed it to Megumi. “To remind you of your other home.”

Megumi opened the pouch and smiled. It was a miniature house carved out of red cedar. She hugged it to her chest. “Thank you.”

\---

Megumi returned to Konoha and stopped at Tenzou’s door. When he answered, he smiled.

“Good trip?”

“Mostly. I went home.”

Tenzou’s eyes went wide. “Want to come in? I can put the kettle on.”

Megumi nodded. She sat on Tenzou’s couch and pulled off her mask.

Tenzou raised an eyebrow at both the healing cut on her cheek and the lack of a mask. It was the first time he’d seen Megumi without one.

“Don’t look too surprised,” Megumi said dryly. “I won’t be running around without a mask anytime soon. Too many people in Konoha.”

Tenzou nodded. He understood and the fact that she trusted him this much felt like an honor. “What happened to your cheek?”

“Shirakawa’s last anbu visit ended with Danzou stealing me. They didn’t respond kindly to another anbu wandering into town asking about a little girl.”

Tenzou winced. “I’m so sorry.”

Megumi shook her head quickly. “It wasn’t bad once they figured out who I was. I got a lot of answers. They offered me a home there.”

There was a wistful look on Tenzou’s face. “Did you meet your family?”

“No. They left 15 years ago. No one knows where they went.”

Tenzou’s face fell.

“It’s okay. Maybe someday I’ll find them, but for now I’m not lacking in family,” Megumi added quickly.

Tenzou smiled.

“I just wanted to thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Take the win, commander,” Megumi ordered.

Tenzou just laughed.

Back in her own apartment, Megumi set Reo’s carving on the shelf above her bed. It made the whole room smell like cedar. With that and the fan running, Megumi dropped onto her bed and slept just like she had in the mountains.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Chapter 29 from A Part of the Pack. I'm re-posting it here, so this story can be read on its own. This chapter takes place several months after the previous chapter. The rest of the chapters in Misadventures will take place chronologically after this chapter.

Tenzou stood on the catwalk and surveyed the practice arena that had been converted into a temporary barrack.

Below, were beds for 21 children from the age of 4 to 13. They were a mix of boys and girls. From the files, Tenzou knew they all had some sort of unique ability and he had a sinking suspicion that not all of them were even from Fire Country.

The children were going about their morning routine, making beds and going through a series of stretches and exercises. The older ones kept the younger ones on track.

“Danzou kept busy,” a voice remarked.

Tenzou glanced over his shoulder, not terribly surprised to see a familiar bird masked Root anbu. 

Megumi leaned against the wall and surveyed the scene in front of her.

“I knew there would be kids, but I didn’t realize there would be this many,” Tenzou said. His shoulders sagged and he looked exhausted. Everywhere he looked in Root, he found some new atrocity and it drained him.

Megumi shrugged. “16 untested trainees and 5 who received their masks in the last round of testing. Danzou was trying to expand Root.”

“He was building an army,” Tenzou said.

“What are you going to do with them?” Megumi asked. There was no emotion in her voice, but the way she leaned towards Tenzou told him she was curious.

Tenzou sighed. “I’m going to evaluate them. Maybe some of the younger ones aren’t in too deep and I can just send them home.”

Megumi hummed doubtfully. “And the older ones and the ones who don’t have a family to go home to?”

“If they’re not in too deep, I will find them a home outside the anbu,” a spark of anger glittered in Tenzou’s eyes. “Kids deserve to be kids.” 

Megumi thought it was probably a good thing that Danzou was already dead. Had Tenzou known about the recruits, Megumi had a feeling he wouldn’t have sat idly by. 

“The older ones will need someone to help them cope with their training. Maybe I can pair them with anbu or jounin,” Tenzou was thinking out loud. “I’m not going to just leave them to their own devices. They might be trained killers, but they’re still kids.”

Megumi nodded. “And the 5 who have already earned their place in Root?”

“They’re still kids,” Tenzou repeated.

“I would take one of them,” Megumi offered.

Tenzou’s mouth opened, but he was so surprised that no sound came out.

Behind her mask something resembling a smile tugged at Megumi’s lips. “The only people who will understand them are other members of Root,” she explained. “Besides, it’s not like we can really mess them up any worse than they already are.” She didn’t mention the little sister she’d had back when she had a different name and didn’t wear a mask. 

Slowly, Tenzou nodded. “That’s a good idea.” He had already noticed that given freedom, the Root members tended to stick to their own and it took less than Tenzou had expected for them to start creating bonds with each other. Shared trauma and history were powerful. 

Tenzou nodded again. His mind flickered back to Kakashi. Kakashi was the first person Tenzou had managed to bond with after Root. He had been a captain, mentor, and friend. The relationship had been good for both of them. 

“Will you reach out to the others for me and see if anyone else is interested?” Tenzou asked. He phrased it as a request, not an order, as he often did outside of missions. 

Megumi nodded. “Of course, Commander.” She recognized the not-order and Tenzou’s attempt to give her control. “I’ll have a list for you in the morning.” Then she vanished with a teleportation jutsu.

Tenzou smiled at the place Megumi had been. She seemed to be the most open to leaving behind Root’s ideology. The world beyond Root at the very least intrigued her. Tenzou had never meant to pick a second in command, but Megumi had just naturally slotted into the role. She’d become his right hand and was the only one who knew that Root’s days were numbered. 

Tenzou called for another of his Roots. The man wore a boar mask and stood stiffly at attention. 

“I could use some help getting the kids organized for evaluations,” Tenzou started.

The man nodded sharply. “I accept the mission, Commander. Should I prepare another arena for physical exams?”

Tenzou quickly shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m going to set up in the medical office. I need you to send me the trainees one at a time starting with the youngest. While I’m doing evaluations, I need you to make a list of supplies the trainees need and see to it that they are secured. I want these trainees in top shape with all haste.”

The man nodded. “Understood, Commander.”

Tenzou headed to the medical office. He knew he had a long day ahead of him.

The boar Root watched Tenzou go. Beneath his mask, the man was frowning. The new commander was very different from Danzou-sama and on the one hand the change of expectations was unnerving, but on the other the new commander’s methods were showing positive results.

Since Tenzou had been named Danzou’s replacement, they hadn’t lost a single Root member. Mission casualties were down and so were illnesses. There had been no unexplained disappearances. They had completed more missions in the time under Tenzou than they had in any other equal time period. Being able to choose teams and missions had encouraged the formation of more efficient teams.

So Boar didn’t voice his concerns. He did as he was told and watched for any indication that Tenzou’s methods were damaging the village’s defenses. The new Commander wore his emotions far more openly than any other Root and his kindness was easy to mistake for weakness, but as long as he continued to strengthen the village’s forces through his leadership it didn’t matter.

Tenzou’s Notes:

**Clan Name**

| 

**First Name**

| 

**Age**

| 

**Gender**

| 

**Abilities**

| 

**Assessment Notes**  
  
---|---|---|---|---|---  
| 

Aiko

| 

4

| 

F

| 

Sound based genjutsu

| 

Untrained, no known family, to be placed with Kohona family  
  
Saito

| 

Botan

| 

4

| 

M

| 

Sensor

| 

Untrained, family in Hiasu, to be returned to family  
  
| 

Chiasa

| 

5

| 

F

| 

Unknown

| 

Untrained, no known family, to be placed with Kohona family  
  
Nakamura

| 

Hachiro

| 

5

| 

M

| 

Unknown

| 

Untrained, family in Fujiha, to be returned to family  
  
| 

Akina

| 

5

| 

F

| 

Fire Chakra Control

| 

Minimal training, to be placed with Kohona family  
  
Watanabe

| 

Arata

| 

5

| 

M

| 

Unknown

| 

Untrained, family in Kusava, to be returned to family  
  
| 

Daisuke

| 

6

| 

M

| 

Shuriken

| 

Halfway through training program, no known family, needs to be placed with a shinobi family  
  
| 

Sai

| 

7

| 

M

| 

Chakra Infused Ink

| 

Fully trained and tested, needs to be placed with a Root member  
  
Suzuki

| 

Fujita

| 

7

| 

M

| 

Enhanced Flexibility and Body Modification

| 

Fully trained and untested, family killed in border skirmish, needs to be placed with a jounin or anbu, related to Manzo-- place together if possible  
  
Tanaka

| 

Ito

| 

9

| 

F

| 

Genjutsu

| 

Halfway through training program, family in Janato, to be returned to family with anbu support  
  
| 

Jun

| 

9

| 

F

| 

Swordsmanship

| 

Halfway through training program, no known family, needs to be placed with a shinobi family  
  
Suzuki

| 

Manzo

| 

9

| 

M

| 

Enhanced Physical Strength and Body Modification

| 

Fully trained and untested, family killed in border skirmish, needs to be placed with a jounin or anbu related to Fujita-- place together if possible  
  
| 

Nobu

| 

10

| 

M

| 

Swordsmanship and Tactics

| 

Fully trained and untested, no known family, needs to be placed with a jounin or anbu  
  
| 

Kyoko

| 

10

| 

F

| 

Trap Making

| 

Halfway through training program, no known family, needs to be placed with a shinobi family  
  
| 

Mai

| 

11

| 

F

| 

Poison and Herbalism

| 

Fully trained and untested, no known family, needs to be placed with a jounin or anbu-- would pair well with a medic  
  
| 

Hiroshi

| 

11

| 

M

| 

Tactics and Assasination

| 

Fully trained and tested, needs to be placed with a Root member  
  
| 

Kaori

| 

12

| 

M

| 

Infiltration

| 

Fully trained and untested, no known family, needs to be placed with a jounin or anbu  
  
| 

Nori

| 

12

| 

F

| 

Information Extraction and Disguises

| 

Fully trained and tested, needs to be placed with a Root member  
  
| 

Rei

| 

12

| 

M

| 

Assasination

| 

Fully trained and untested, no known family, needs to be placed with a jounin or anbu  
  
| 

Kana

| 

13

| 

F

| 

Infiltration and Swordsmanship

| 

Fully trained and tested, needs to be placed with a Root member  
  
| 

Namiyo

| 

13

| 

M

| 

Barrier Jutsu and swordsmanship

| 

Fully trained and tested, needs to be placed with a Root member  
  
  
  


Tenzou stared at the list he’d made without seeing it. His eyes refused to focus on the paper. He was mentally exhausted and emotionally drained. Talking with the kids brought the memories Tenzou usually tried to forget floating to the surface of his mind. He could hear Danzou’s voice whispering in his ear, “This is necessary.” He could feel the ache of injuries long healed. 

Tenzou shoved Danzou’s ghost from his mind and tried to focus on the task in front of him.

Most of the kids didn’t know where they’d come from and he doubted the name they gave him was the one they were born with. 

The younger kids squirmed under Tenzou’s gaze and flinched when he moved too fast. They had yet to receive shinobi training, but it was obvious that they’d received a fair bit of discipline training. 

It was only through good old fashioned bribery that Tenzou managed to get them talking about their training. Mumbling around sticky rice candy, they told stories of harsh discipline, rampant illnesses in the barracks (which is why they’d been relocated to the arena), and other trainees who simply vanished. 

Tenzou knew they would have nightmares for a while, but that they were young enough to bounce back. He could place them with a sympathetic civilian family or return them to their family provided they had one.

The kids in the middle age group were the ones Tenzou had the hardest time reading. They had been broken down emotionally and psychologically to the point that Danzou deemed fit to start Root’s shinobi training. This meant they were compliant and quiet. 

When asked, they described the horrors of their training without flinching. But, when Tenzou looked at them with undisguised sympathy and promised he wouldn’t let anyone hurt them like that ever again, they broke down crying. Tenzou decided he could place them with a shinobi, but not a civilian family.

There was a large portion of the group that had been fully trained by Danzou, but were untested. They’d suffered through the brutality of Root training, but they’d never killed before. 

None of them passed a standard psychological evaluation, but Tenzou decided to place them with either jounin or regular anbu members anyway. Having been spared the graduation exam, he had hope that they would be able to integrate back into society with some work and guidance. Some of them even admitted to having friends in their training group, which Tenzou took as a very good sign.

The ones that worried Tenzou the most were the 5 who had been fully trained and tested. He stared into their eyes and saw nothing. They were like empty shells. Danzou had succeeded in turning them into his perfect weapons. The names they gave were all code-names and they would answer to whatever Tenzou called them. All they cared about was learning the details of the mission they assumed they’d been selected for.

Tenzou decided to place one of the girls with Megumi. Kana shared an infiltration specialization with Megumi, so he assumed they would have gone through similar training. 

Tenzou considered training under someone older and experienced in maintaining their sanity through extensive undercover missions was an absolutely necessary part of surviving life as an infiltration specialist. Megumi was noticeably saner than the other infiltration specialists Tenzou had worked with.

Tenzou knew he’d need to place the other kids who had been tested with Root members as well. They needed to be with someone who would understand and accept them.

One of the kids stood out. He was the youngest to have been tested, only 7 years old. He looked at Tenzou with dead eyes and had brought his go bag to the interrogation with him. He was the only one to have done that and it caught Tenzou’s interest.

“Do you mind if I see what you packed?” Tenzou asked.

The boy stood stiffly and dumped his canvas pack on the desk. It was mostly standard gear-- kunai, shuriken, food pills, first aid kit, etc-- and painting supplies. 

“You specialize in infusing ink with chakra, right?” Tenzou checked.

The boy nodded.

In the pile was a small book. Tenzou picked it up and thought he saw fear flicker across the boy’s face, but it was only there for a heartbeat.

Tenzo flipped through the book. Depending on which cover you started from, it showed a shinobi fighting his way through enemies one by one. The middle of the book, where the two shinobi would meet, was blank.

“Your painting is beautiful,” Tenzou said. He held the book out to the boy and the boy didn’t hesitate to snatch it from Tenzou’s grip and hug it to his chest.

Tenzou smiled at the boy, but his eyes filled with tears. One shinobi looked like the boy in front of him and he could guess who the other one was supposed to be. Despite everything, the boy was still clinging to the last good thing in his life. Danzou’s ultimate training plan had failed to completely crush this child.

Tenzou knew the boy would need more help than any of the others. Tenzou knew how much pain that last shred of humanity could cause. Guilt was a heavy burden to bear, especially that young. Tenzou had failed his exam, failed to kill Kakashi, and he still struggled with the guilt of trying to kill his only friend. This boy had passed his exam.

With all of the kids back in their makeshift barrack, Tenzou checked on Boar. 

Evening had come and gone and outside night was falling.

The Root was up on the catwalk, watching the kids. “Commander,” Boar greeted with a tip of his head.

“How is it going?” Tenzou asked.

Boar nodded. “My mission is complete. They have new weapons and clothes. I saw to it that they all received sufficient rations and all injuries and illnesses were treated.”

Tenzou smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate your hard work and efficiency. I won’t keep you here any later. You can go.”

Boar nodded and accepted both the thanks and dismissal.

Tenzou lingered a bit longer, just watching.

\---

Tenzou didn’t sleep much that night. Instead, he drafted letters to be sent on behalf of the Root trainees to potential families. He obsessed over the wording and how to make a stranger see all the potential these kids had. They needed love and patient care, but they weren’t just things to be fixed. They were brilliant and creative, each unique and special in their own way. 

How was he supposed to convey the sweetness of little Aiko’s hesitant smile or the quiet strength that would one day make Daisuke a leader in whatever field he chose?

An hour before the morning meeting, Tenzou left his apartment and headed for a nearby bakery. He picked up sweet buns and coffee and headed for the Root headquarters with his arms loaded.

The Root headquarters were hidden in the mountain below the stone monument and the main entrance was disguised as a small office building.

What Tenzou had taken to calling the conference room was a tactical planning room under Danzou. The large table was a map of Kohona and the surrounding terrain. 

Tenzou had his suspicions about why there were routes marked from Root to the Hokage’s office and home, but he kept them to himself. Whatever Danzou had been planning, those plans died with the man.

The other members of Root trickled in. Megumi arrived in deep conversation with the other Bird. 

Bird was one of the younger members, 3 years Tenzou’s junior. She had a sweet voice and with her golden hair, the comparison to a song bird was obvious. Looking at the petite woman, one would never take her for Root’s top interrogation specialist. Her mask was painted with red as opposed to Megumi’s blue.

Next was to arrive were Boar, Deer, Bear, and Hound. The four men entered in silence and took a seat without a sound. 

Bear dipped his head to Tenzou as a greeting and Tenzou nodded back.

The bulk of Root arrived exactly on time, in a clump of 15. 

Rabbit, Blue Cat, Green Cat, and Pig came in a few minutes late.

Monkey was the last to arrive, out of breath with an apology on his lips. “I’m sorry Commander,” Monkey said with a deep bow. “There was a commotion in the market this morning. Some sort of a thief.”

“It’s alright. We didn’t start without you,” Tenzou assured the young man. Monkey was the only one who had opted to live outside of the Anbu housing. He had returned to his childhood home. Though his family was long gone and the forest had made a valiant effort to reclaim the house, the foundation was strong and the walls were sturdy, so Mokey stayed.

“I brought breakfast and coffee. Feel free to help yourself,” Tenzou invited.

About half of them did. Tenzou considered that an improvement from the first time he’d brought food to a meeting and they took it as an order to eat.

The first order of business was a presentation of the mission request Root had received. 

As a group, they decided which missions to take and which ones to kick back to the regular anbu. It always went faster than Tenzou expected. 

The Roots were intimately familiar with their team’s unique strengths and, in the absence of selfish interests, they chose missions that demanded either their specific skills or Root level discretion.

From the 15 mission requests Tenzou had received in the last week, they took 9. 4 were S-ranked, 4 were A-ranked, and one was B-ranked. 3 of the S-ranked, 2 of the A-ranked, and the B-ranked mission were outside of Fire Country.

Tenzou didn’t particularly like sending so many of his team abroad at one time, but none of the missions were long term, so he didn’t argue.

Cat in particular seemed excited about the prospect of getting out of the village. “I would like to request the A-rank in Waterfall Country,” she said quickly.

Tenzou nodded and passed her the scroll with mission details. It was a diplomatic mission. It was time to renew the treaty with Waterfall and someone needed to carry the new Treaty to Waterfall for a signature. 

Normally the mission wouldn’t warrant Root attention, but Waterfall had played hard during the negotiations and the emissary would have to cross Cloud Country which did not have a standing treaty with Kohona. If anything went wrong during travel or in Waterfall Country, a Root operative had the skill to escape conflict and disappear without unnecessary escalations.

It went on like that for a while. Some Root expressed mission preferences openly, but most waited for Tenzou to request them on a certain job. When he asked, none of them said no, but he always gave them the option.

The last order of business was the newly tested Root members.

Megumi, Red Bird, Monkey, and Bear had all volunteered to take one of the fully trained and tested kids.

Tenzou jotted them down and requested that they stay after the meeting to discuss the logistics. He needed one more, but it wouldn’t be good to pressure another Root into taking on the responsibility. An alternative was taking shape in Tenzou’s mind.

“Does anyone have any announcements or points of discussion pertaining to Root and the village?” Tenzou asked.

Hesitantly, Red Bird stood. 

Tenzou nodded for her to speak. 

“My announcement isn’t business related, but I would like permission to speak after the conclusion of business,” Red Bird said.

Tenzou nodded again. “Seeing no other business, this officially concludes our meeting. Go ahead Bird.”

Red Bird clasped her hands behind her back and stood straighter. “I have chosen a new name for myself. You may call me Seiko.” 

Tenzou broke into a wide grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Seiko.”

Seiko nodded and sat quickly after that.

Monkey stood up next. “If I may also speak about something that is not business…” he glanced to Tenzou.

“The meeting is over. It’s okay to just talk,” Tenzou said. Have more coffee and pastries if you want them. At this point, we’re just colleagues hanging out.”

Boar immediately went for another pastry and the room relaxed slightly. A few trickled out. 

Monkey waited for the room to settle again before continuing. “I went out without my mask last week. It’s the first time I’ve been barefaced without any sort of a disguise since before I joined Root.”

A ripple of excitement passed through the other Roots. “And?” Megumi demanded. 

Monkey shrugged. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but I did it early in the morning and I only went to the tea shop closest to my house. There weren’t a lot of people around which I think helped me, because I knew for sure no one was staring and no one tailed me home.”

Megumi nodded and fiddled with her own mask. She’d been trying to work up the courage to actually start building a civilian identity, but was unable to bring herself to leave her home without her mask.

“And, a family moved into the house next door to me. I’m going to go over an introduce myself just as soon as I settle on a new name,” Monkey rubbed the back of his head. “Then, I’ll really have a civilian identity I’ll have a name and a face people recognize. I’m only a little terrified by it.” Monkey sat back down and relaxed into his seat.

“How are you planning to explain your work?” Seiko asked with a note of genuine curiosity.

“I was thinking of saying I was a traveling merchant,” Monkey replied. 

Tenzou fought the urge to roll his eyes. That was the standard excuse that anbu used and everyone knew it. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the perpetually armed guy who didn’t own a shop wasn’t actually a traveling merchant. But, people would assume Monkey was a regular anbu and it would keep them from asking too many questions.

The other Roots were nodding like Monkey had come up with a brilliant plan. 

“I acquired a cat,” Deer said. He was a tall, thin man with a soft voice. “One of the counselors who did my last psych eval suggested that an animal companion may help reduce stress and anxiety.”

Heads nodded and people murmured. Tenzou decided not to ask what Deer meant by “acquiring” a cat. He also wondered if that was why Kakashi kept adding to his pack of ninken.

“Would you like to see a picture?” Deer asked.

Heads nodded again, and he pulled a picture from his pocket. 

Tenzou thought the orange tabby had a mean look with it’s missing eye, shredded ear, and underbite, but Deer seemed pleased. 

The not-meeting continued to devolve from there. The Roots discussed the challenges of adjusting to Tenzou’s gentler leadership and different expectations. They shared tips and tricks for coping in a world that Danzou had built them to not fit in. It was everything from teas to help with sleep and how to properly cook chicken to how to speak with children and pick the right clothes size.

Tenzou offered his own advice when asked directly, but otherwise let the rest of them work through things together.

Tenzou couldn’t help but think of how far his team had come in under a year. Sure, none of them were able to pass a psych eval yet, but they were all actively and willingly working towards it. His mind flickered back to the first time he had stood in front of all of Root and explained his plan to do away with the isolation of Root shinobi.

Most of them thought he was crazy. It took revealing his whole history and proving his skill as a shinobi and leader to win them over. “Look at my mission records and tell me I’m weaker than you,” Tenzou had challenged. “My worst performance was when I was under Danzou’s control.”

The Roots had shifted in discomfort at that. They were supposed to be the strongest shinobi in the village. That leaving had made Tenzou stronger was a scary idea. It threw into question everything they had been taught.

“Outside of Root, I learned to draw strength and conviction from the bonds I shared with my teammates and the village. As a member of Root I was willing to die for the village without hesitation, but I didn’t know the value of my life or the value of this village,” Tenzou had continued. 

“In living amongst my fellow villagers, I learned what I was actually fighting for-- who I was fighting for-- and it wasn’t Danzou or even the hokage. Because I love this village and the people who call it home, I can fight longer and harder. I know the power of my life and I will give every moment of my life to the protection of this place that is precious to me,” Tenzou had explained. “That makes me far more powerful than I was.”

The tally of completed missions Root was able to rack up under Tenzou’s leadership spoke for themselves. Once he had proven that his kindness didn’t indicate weakness, the Root members began to accept their new leader’s gentler treatment and new methods. Tenzou’s compassion and sympathy endeared him to his subordinates. They were eager to please and eager to find the sort of strength Tenzou claimed came from forging bonds.

The last of the pastries finally disappeared and all that was left of the coffee was the dregs, when the rest of Root began to disperse.

The 4 who had volunteered to take in the last of Danzou’s recruits lingered.

Tenzou passed them files on the recruits. “I have some ideas on who would pair well with who, but the final decision is up to you.”

“What about the fifth child?” Megumi asked.

“I’ll take them,” Tenzou said.  _ I’ve watched Kakashi with both Naruto and Sasuke. I should be able to handle on kid, _ he thought.

Megumi took Kana, Seiko took Nori, Monkey took Namiyo, and Deer took Hiroshi. 

That left Tenzou with the youngest, the chakra painter, Sai.

Tenzou had a feeling that he was jumping into a river without knowing how deep the water was or if the current was powerful. He hoped the others couldn’t tell and that the 5 of them would be able to handle this task without being swept away.

Over the next week, the temporary barrack inside the arena emptied. 

Tenzou worked nonstop to find good homes for all of the kids. A surprising number of people had offered to take in one of the kids. Tenzou personally met with all of the prospective guardians at least twice and when he placed one of the kids, it was under the condition that he would be checking on them regularly.

The people Tenzou chose weren’t all the sort that a civilian orphanage would have chosen. They weren’t stereotypical families, but Tenzou was confident the kids would be loved and cared for.

Among the guardians Tenzou chose were a handful of older single shinobi, a civilian from the Hyuga clan, and an Inuzuka who had been a chuunin before losing her leg on a mission.

Tenzou was even able to put the two brothers together with a man from the Akimichi clan. 

Akimichi Gako had lost his wife in the last war. She had been a member of the medical team on the front lines. Gako unofficially retired from shinobi work after the war ended. Thought still recognized as a jounin, he hadn’t taken a mission in years and he only used his jounin rank to get into the training grounds to practice with his nephew. 

“The house has always been too big and quiet, even for me,” Gako said with a smile as he patted his generous stomach. “I volunteered with the medical division after the war. I know what that sort of violence does to kids and I’m experienced in working with young, traumatized shinobi.”

With the rest of the kids safe, Tenzou turned his attention to his new charge.

Sai sat across the Tenzou’s kitchen table from the older shinobi.

The boy was small, even smaller than Naruto and Sasuke despite being roughly the same age. His feet barely touched the ground.

Sai’s go bag was sitting beside his chair. He seemed unwilling to let it out of his sight and Tenzou suspected it was because of the book inside.

Sai had been unable to tell Tenzou what he liked to eat, so Tenzou had made ramen. In his limited experience with kids, none of them ever objected to ramen.

Sai picked at the food and watched Tenzou with dark eyes.

On first entering Tenzou’s apartment, the boy had taken stock of entrances, exits, and possible weapons. He had noticed Tenzou’s plant collection and the way the older man kept his things tidy, but not up to Danzou-sama’s standards. There were dirty dishes in the sink and dust had been allowed to settle on the top of the tall cupboards. Sai filed the observations away for further analysis later-- perhaps they would tell him more about what the new Commander wanted from him.

“I only have one bedroom, but I put in for a move to a two bedroom apartment and it should be approved within the week,” Tenzou explained. 

Sai nodded. “That seems to be a lot of trouble for you,” he observed. “It would be easier to place me in a single occupant apartment, would it not? Or I could sleep on the floor here? I don’t have any possessions and I slept worse places on missions.”

Tenzou tried to smile gently. He hoped it didn’t look like a grimace. In addition to being unable to express any sort of an opinion or emotion, Sai seemed incapable of understanding that he was a child. “Sleeping on the floor will make you stiff. That’s no good for anyone. As for living on your own, you’re young and there’s a lot you have left to learn.” Tenzou framed his argument around Sai’s ability to function as a shinobi, just like he’d done in the beginning with the adults.

“Could I be placed in a nearby unit?” Sai asked. He had noticed the unit across the hall didn’t have a name beside the apartment number.

Tenzou hesitated. “Would you rather live alone?” he asked.

“I have no preference. I am a tool to be used by Root. I will stay wherever you deem me most useful.”

Tenzou could have groaned in frustration. Sai acted like he was a veteran of Root rather than a barely initiated child. 

Tenzou met Sai’s emotionless gaze and tried to decide what to do. It was clear the kid wasn’t going to participate in this decision. 

“I’ll see if I can get you one of the neighboring units. If not, we’ll move into a two bedroom unit,” Tenzou said. If Sai was across the hall, he wasn’t really any further than he would be in a two bedroom apartment. Plus, the older Root members had responded well to having their own space. Since Sai seemed to have more in common with an adult than the other kids, maybe he would do the same.

Sai nodded. He accepted Tenzou’s decision without any emotion. “You have a lot of plants,” Sai remarked.

Tenzou nodded. “Yeah. I find that taking care of them relaxes me and they don’t make for bad company.” He couldn’t help but smile fondly at the plants around them.

Sai’s face remained impassive. “Plants cannot provide companionship. They aren’t sentient,” he pointed out.

Tenzou winced.  _ Yeah. He’s not like Naruto. _

When dinner was done, Sai helped to clean up in silence. 

Tenzou went to work making the couch into a bed. Sai watched in silence.

“There we go,” Tenzou announced. He stood back and smiled at Sai. Yes, it was the couch, but it was undoubtedly more comfortable than the cot Sai was used to and there were plenty of soft blankets available.

“I make you sad,” Sai said.

Tenzou’s heart ached, but he forced himself to keep smiling. “No. You don’t make me sad.”

“You’re a good liar,” Sai said. He stepped past Tenzou and sat on the makeshift bed. He kicked off his shoes and laid down.

Tenzou hesitated to walk away. “Do you want another blanket?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Sai said. He stared up at the ceiling. “You shouldn’t waste your energy caring about me. I don’t think I have emotions. I don’t feel sad or happy or discontent or anything else.”

Tenzou’s shoulders sagged and his smile fell. “It’s okay to feel things,” he said softly. “I know Danzou taught that emotions are useless, but he was wrong. As long as you can control your emotions, they can make you stronger. They’re a valuable weapon.”

Sai closed his eyes. “I suppose that diminishes my value then. I feel nothing. I have no emotions.”

“It’s okay,” Tenzou whispered. He wasn’t even sure if the boy could hear him. “Get some rest. If you need anything, wake me up.” He made it an order, but tried to keep his voice gentle.

Sai nodded, but didn’t open his eyes.

Tenzou retreated to his bedroom. He buried his face in his pillow and cried. More than ever, Tenzou was glad Danzou was dead. More than ever, he wished Kakashi were in the village so they could talk. 

But Kakashi was off taking care of his boys and now Tenzou needed to do the same.

  
  


**Chapter 3**

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Monkey and his new charge are the neighborhood cryptids and the family next door are literally saints.

Monkey was waiting outside the furniture store’s doors when they opened. His civilian identity was coming along. He’d figured out how to dress like one of them-- cloaks were not in style outside of the anbu-- and, like any other undercover mission, Monkey had studied the civlian’s mannerisms and culture extensively. His background work seemed to be paying off. The girl at the flower shop on the corner always said hi when he passed. They thought he was one of them.

Monkey still wasn’t comfortable in crowds. He’d spent too much time on actual undercover missions to feel comfortable in civilian clothes, unarmed, and surrounded by strangers. 

If the owner of the furniture store thought it odd that his first customer of the day was on the young side and far more awake than he had any right to be at 7AM, the man kept it to himself.

Monkey said he was 28, making him one of the older Root members, but he had a mischievous smile and a gap between his front teeth that convinced strangers he was younger. Maybe he was. Monkey couldn’t really say for sure. The early years in Root had passed in a blur. They didn’t celebrate birthdays.

The owner of the store, an older man with gray hair and thick glasses, sized up the young man in front of him and smiled. He pegged the customer for one of those young business types-- plenty of money to spend and their first house to furnish. “How can I help you this morning?”

Monkey returned the smile. “I need to furnish a guest room, living room, and dining room,” he replied.

The owner’s smile widened.

Monkey had no idea what 13 year olds wanted in their rooms, so he went with the basics-- solid bed, dresser, night stand, and storage trunk. He also sprung for a real dining room table and a couch. Monkey had been content to eat his meals in his own room, but that wouldn’t work when he was no longer living alone. 

According to a parenting book from the library, eating dinner around a table, as a family was good for children. It helped them develop social skills.

If personal experience was anything to go by, Monkey figured any kid raised by Root would need a lot of family dinners. 

\---

Monkey had the furniture delivered to his house. He lived on the southern side of the village in a 2 story house with a wide front porch. It had been white in his childhood, but in the intermediate years someone had painted it blue. The blue paint was faded and chipped. It gave the place a mottled look that Monkey loved for its ugliness. 

After years of maintaining orderly perfection in the Root barracks, Monkey considered the house his quiet act of vengeance.

The problem with the furniture delivery was that Monkey was left with a pile of thing on the sidewalk in front of his house, 5 stairs from the front door, and a full flight of stairs away from the bedroom he meant to furnish.

Monkey paused for a minute, just surveying the scene. With a shadow clone, he’d be able move everything easily but there was too much traffic on the street for that. He’d blow his civilian identity before he really even got to use it.

“Need a hand?” a cheerful voice asked.

Monkey nearly jumped out of his skin.  _ How did I not hear him? _ Monkey thought in horror.

The man standing beside him on the sidewalk with a good 10 years older than Monkey. He was a bit on the portly side and beginning to bald, with thick round glasses that magnified his eyes to a comical level. His smile was friendly and everything about the man seemed designed to imply softness and kindness. Monkey immediately decided this man was the least threatening individual he’d ever met. 

“I can help you get that stuff upstairs,” the man offered again.

Monkey offered his own smile back. “If you could help me get it in the door I would be very grateful.” 

The man beammed and grabbed one side of the couch. He didn’t let the odd grimace like smile or odd phrasing bother him. The younger man seemed nervous, no reason to judge him for it. “This is what neighbors are for. It’ll be nice to have someone in this place.”

With a fair bit of huffing and puffing on the older man’s part, he and Monkey got all of the furniture into Monkey’s front entry way.

“Looks like you just about furnished the whole house today,” the man commented. “Name’s Daito.” Daito offered Monkey his hand.

Monkey shook the offered hand, surprised at the older man’s firm grip. “My nephew is coming to live with me. Couldn’t have the kid show up to an empty house.”

“How old’s the kid? He staying for long?”

“13. He’ll be here indefinitely.”

“That’s great! I have a daughter who’s 16 and a son who just turned 12. It’ll be nice to have another kid his age in the neighborhood. The 2 of you will have to come over for dinner. My wife makes the best pork katsu.” Daito clapped Monkey on the shoulder.

“Wow! I can’t imagine having a house and a teenager to look after at your age. You must be quite something.” He shook his head in wonder. 

Monkey winced.

Daito chuckled. “Don’t let me worry you. You’ve got your life way more together than I did at your age and teenagers aren’t as hard as everyone says they are. They’re like adult cats. They can more or less take care of themselves, but it’s really for the best that someone keeps an eye on them. Really it’s kind of fun to have teenagers, because they’re starting to blossom into their own person. You get to help them navigate their first steps into adulting, but you can also still spoil them like kids so you get the best of both worlds!”

Daito’s words only made Monkey go paler.  _ What sort of adult world issues will Namiyo need help with? What sort of person does a Root kid blossom into? Oh Kami! I’m not qualified. How the f*ck do you spoil a kid??? _

“You’ll be fine,” Daito repeated. “You’re already doing a great job. You’re already spoiling the kid in just the way they need. Your nephew is lucky to have you to give him such a welcoming home!”

Monkey forced himself to smile again. Even he could tell this time that it came out more like a grimace. “I should probably get to setting all of this up and I don’t want to take anymore of your time. I appreciate your help immensely.”

“Hey, if you ever need anything, my door is always open,” Daito said. He knew the look of an overwhelmed parent in need of a bit of space well enough. It’s why he insisted his wife take at least one night a week to spend time with her friends and do things without him or the children in tow.

Monkey nodded his thanks as the other man headed for the front door. 

“Oh what was your name again?” Daito asked just as he stepped over the threshold.

Monkey felt like his brain had short circuited. His breath caught in his lungs.

Daito waited.

It was only a heartbeat or 2, but to Monkey it felt like an eternity of silence. “Uhhh… Himitsu,” the world tumbled out of Monkey’s lips half jumbled in his haste.

Daito nodded. “Nice to meet you Himitsu. Glad to have you for a neighbor.” Then he was gone and Monkey flopped onto the couch.

“What the f*ck kind of name is Himitsu?” he asked the empty house a note of despair in his voice.

Monkey spent the rest of the day sweeping, mopping, and using his clones to rearrange the house. Under his breath he kept repeating his new name. He introduced himself to everything from the dining room chairs to the dust bunnies as Konoha no Himitsu-- the Hidden Leaf’s Secret. The name didn’t get any less absurd when he told it to the spider under the kitchen sink. 

The arrival of Himitsu’s new charge was surprisingly anticlimactic.

The sun had just finished setting behind the mountains, leaving the village wrapped in a lavender twilight.

There was a knock on the front door and Himitsu opened it to find a boy on the other side.

Namiyo was both short and muscular for a 13 year old. His dark hair was little more than fuzz on his head it was cut so short. Himitsu could see a fresh scar running from behind the boy’s left ear to the crown of his head. It was still pink and puckered looking. 

Namiyo met Himitsu’s eyes without fear. Himistu thought he saw a spark of defiance in the boy’s dark eyes.

“Come on in,” Himitsu said. He held the door open.

Namiyo nodded and stepped inside. He stood awkwardly just inside the threshold like he was waiting for further instructions.

In the bright light of the living room, Himitsu looked the kid over more closely. Someone had dressed him like a civilian-- blue shorts and black t-shirt. They did nothing to hide the boy’s broad shoulders or the sword he carried on his back beside his go bag.

While Himitsu tried to figure out where to begin this whole parenting gig, Namiyo took stock of the scene. The house he found himself in was surprisingly un-anbu looking. The living room had a well worn rug of many colors, a comfortable looking couch, and magazines all over a small coffee table. He could see a dining room and kitchen through an open doorway and smell some sort of food cooking. There were a couple paintings hung slightly crooked on the walls. 

Of his newly assigned superior and mentor, Namiyo had a mixed impression. He seemed oddly nervous about the face, but his stance was relaxed and comfortable. When he walked it was with the unmistakable grace of a trained swordsman. The files Namiyo had read on the man behind the Monkey mask painted him as an overwhelmingly skilled shinobi and leader, but the pile of books stacked haphazardly beside an empty bookshelf indicated a lack of discipline if one was to believe Danzou Shimaru.

“Dinner’s almost ready. I can give you a tour and then we can eat,” Himitsu offered. He shifted under Namiyo’s empty stare.

Namiyo nodded and let himself be led from room to room. He put his go bag and his sword on the storage trunk in the room he was told was his without a word. 

Himitsu babbled to fill the silence. Since the new Commander had removed the proverbial gag Danzou kept on his pet shinobi, Himitsu found himself filling the silence more often than not.

Himitsu’s talking got faster the longer Namiyo watched him in silence. He swore he could feel the kid judging, noticing every crack in the paint and the way the house was thrown together like some sort of a sloppy genjutsu, an illusion of control.

Back downstairs, Himitsu led the way to the kitchen. “I made ramen. I hope you like it. I don’t know how to cook much. I normally eat out most meals, but I figure tonight should be special and that means I should cook....”   
  
That was met with a slight tilt of the head from Namiyo. 

“...And this is Spider-Hanako-Chan,” Himitsu said quickly, rolling right through another silence. “She eats the ants and she isn’t poisonous.”

Namiyo nodded dutifully.

“Oh and I guess I have a name now too.” Himitsu winced. “There’s this civilian family that lives next door and I’ve been sneaking in the back to avoid having to introduce myself because picking a new permanent name is hard but today they surprised me and I had to pick one on the spot. It’s Himitsu.”   
  


Namiyo blinked twice. “You told them your name was a secret?” His voice was laced with skepticism.

Himitsu sighed and his shoulders sagged. “Look, I know I’m not what you expected. I’m sure they promised you I was some sort of mentor/leader person who has all his shit together. According to the Commander I’m supposed to be parenting you into a normal life. The fact of the matter is I don’t have my shit together. I don’t know how to parent someone or what a normal life should look. I’m making this all up as I go. I bought all this furniture today and I think I talk as a defense mechanism. But, nothing’s blown up on me so far, so I figure I can’t be doing too bad a job of navigating this whole reintegration business. So what do you say we treat this like one really vague infiltration mission and figure it out together. Also, I told them my name was Secret, not a secret.” Himitsu stopped and bit his tongue to keep from saying anything else.

Namiyo’s eyes widened and then the most unexpected thing happened. He burst out laughing. The kid laughed until he was doubled over and tears were running down his face. 

“You’re so weird!” he gasped.

Himistu snorted. “Yeah well I’m sure you’re totally normal.”

Namiyo kept snickering, but he wiped his face and grinned up at Himitsu. Were it any shinobi other than Himitsu staring him down with a scowl and folded arms, Namiyo would have flinched. “You know I really hate how quiet the barracks are all the time,” the kids admitted.

Himitsu groaned and dropped his arms. “Tell me about it. I swear of all the things that ate at my sanity, the quiet was the worst.”

“And the cold. Being hungry was also pretty bad.”

Himitsu’s mind flickered back to the days before his Root graduation exam. Everyone was on edge, Danzou didn’t let them get enough sleep between training sessions, the barracks were too cold and the blankets too few and the rations smaller than ever.

“This is your home now. We have a lot of blankets and we can always buy more. There’s always going to be food in the fridge and the cupboard. You can eat whatever you want whenever you want, just try to contain the crumbs Hanako can only handle so many ants before she loses her girlish figure.”

Namiyo’s eyes widened. “I’m pretty sure parents don’t let their kids eat cake all day everyday. Also spiders don’t have girlish figures.”

Himitsu rolled his eyes. “Do you want to eat cake all day everyday?”   
  


“No. I like fruit better.”

“See? I know you’re a skilled shinobi, but there’s still a lot you can learn from someone more experienced,” Himitsu fought the urge to snicker as he gestured to himself with a flourish. “You can take care of yourself, but it’s nice to not have to do everything on your own.”

Namiyo nodded. He peered around Himitsu, eyeing the big pot on the stove. “Sure Sempai. Maybe I can help you with the cooking next time? It smells like you might need to buy more spices.’

Himitsu took the hint and started dishing up 2 bowels. “If it’s terrible, there’s a place not far from here that serves all sorts of food all night long.”

Namiyo smiled at the watery bowl of ramen. A hazy memory floated to the surface-- a different kitchen, a crowded table, watery soup, and a warm feeling in his chest. “It’s good,” Namiyo whispered without touching his bowl.

Himitsu took a bite and winced. “It’s pretty bad, but thanks for the encouragement. Let’s go get some real food.”

Namiyo just laughed and let himself be led out of the house.

From next door, Daito caught a glimpse of his odd new neighbor pulling a boy down the street. They were both laughing.

\---

“So what’s your specialty?” Namiyo asked around a mouthful of dumplings.

“Sealing and swordsmanship. You?”

“Swords and barriers.” Namiyo shoved another dumpling in his mouth. He was on his second order and showed no sign of slowing down. “Will we be training together?” he asked, a note of caution in his voice. “There were rumors that those of us who are newest to the organization won’t be allowed to act as full members.”

Himitsu answered in a low voice. No one outside of their little booth would be able to hear. “We’ll definitely train together. There’s not nearly enough specialized swordsmen around and your records indicate you’ll be an excellent sparring partner.” A bit of a wicked smile danced on his lips.

“But will I still be able to take on missions? What is the end goal of reintegration?”

Himitsu chose his words carefully. “No one is going to take away your position among the anbu anymore than they are going to take away mine. Nothing can undo what was done to us or what we have done. We cannot be unmade.”

Namiyo nodded. His brows wrinkled and he fidgeted with the edge of the table cloth. “So what’s the point of this?”

“I guess the point is that our training is incomplete. There are skills that were purposely neglected in the Root curriculum. Danzou believed these deficiencies made us more valuable to the village. As the organization has moved forward without Danzou, evidence has come to light that implies he may have been wrong.” Himitsu watched the boy’s hands. He knew exactly what the boy was feeling, the anxiety that came from losing your purpose from having the thing you had been molded around ripped away. “We are still the best of the best, but we can be stronger than we are.”

“How?” Namiyo asked. “Everyone keeps talking about the strength of bonds and turning your desires into weapons and it all just sounds like civilian nonsense.”

Himitsu shrugged. “No idea. I’m figuring this stuff out just like you are. All I know is that it works. I’ve seen the evidence.”

“The new Commander?”

“Yeah and some others who left Root.”

“Interesting,” Namiyo murmured. He let go of the tablecloth and tried to sooth away the wrinkles left by his fists.

\---

When they returned home, both went to bed early. 

Namiyo woke up in the middle of the night. He wasn’t cold, but he wandered downstairs to grab another blanket and he wasn’t hungry but he took a slice of bread while he was downstairs too. 

In his room, Namiyo sat under his extra blanket and chewed the bread slowly. He waited for the door to open and this peaceful illusion to shatter. 

Namiyo finished the bread and brushed a handful of crumbs onto the floor. The door stayed shut and the world seemed to solidify a bit more. The paint was cracked and the window had a small gap at the bottom that let in a cool breeze, but the blankets were warm and for the first time in 2 years Namiyo felt at peace. This was no illusion, just like the faded memories he’d been trained to ignore weren’t just dreams. It was life, imperfect.

\---

The next morning, both anbu were awake with sun. 

“Sparring?” Namiyo asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Himitsu nodded and before the sun was fully risen, the two of them were jumping from rooftop to rooftop on their way to the training grounds.

They danced in the bright light of dawn. Their blades reflected the blinding sun and the sharp rasp of steel on steel sent the birds for the sky. 

Namiyo was small and fast, but he lacked Himitsu’s strength and experience. Each time they clashed, Himitsu claimed the upper hand. 

After the third bout, the older anbu began calling commands and advice. The matches lasted longer each time after than.

The pair were sweat soaked and the sun was well into its journey towards noon when things shifted.

Namiyo countered Himitsu’s strike and as he’d been instructed several clashes early, stepped into the older man’s space. Because of their height difference, getting in closer was to Namiyo’s advantage. At the right distance, Himitsu’s movement was restricted but Namiyo’s wasn’t.

The boy’s blade slipped around Himitsu’s guard and came to rest against the older anbu’s chest.

Both shinobi froze. The only sound was their ragged breathing.

Then Himistu’s face split into a wide grin. “Fantastic!” he panted.

Namiyo lowered his blade and a faint dusting of pink touched his cheeks at the praise. 

“You are a fast learner,” Himitsu announced. “Kami, I haven’t had that much fun sparring anyone in years.”

Namiyo blushed harder and pressed a fist to his chest. The same warmth he had felt staring at Himitsu’s shitty cooking was spreading from his chest to make his fingers tingle and his face flush.

“How about we call it a morning and grab some breakfast at the cafeteria?” Himitsu suggested. He clapped Namiyo on the back and smiled wider when the boy grinned up at him. 

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Namiyo agreed. 

The two of them ate in the anbu dining hall and talked sword styles.

When Himitsu realized Namiyo was almost yelling as he told Himitsu about some new forging method coming out of Suna, the older anbu fought back a smile. Namiyo looked like a regular kid, all bright eyed and excited about a new toy and someone who listens to him. It didn’t matter that the kid was excited about more flexible steel. Himitsu figured in that moment that the kid was going to be okay. Maybe not normal, but definitely okay. 

\---

“Mission parameters?” Namiyo demanded. He was standing in the doorway of Himitsu’s room, watching the older anbu debate between 2 slightly different blue shirts. 

“Continue to build civilian identities through socialization with the civilian population,” Himitsu mumbled. He finally picked a shirt. “We are dealing with a family unit. Limited data is available.” 

Namiyo nodded. “Heads of household are Daito, an electrician, and his wife whose name and occupation are unknown. They have 2 children aged 16 and 12, a girl and a boy respectively, names unknown.”

“The objective is to make it through dinner without blowing our cover while acquiring further information on the hosts and laying a thorough backstory.” Himitsu finished.

“And not letting them think we’re a pair of weirdos,” Namiyo added.

True to his earlier insistence, Daito had showed up at the anbus’ door with an order from his wife to bring the neighbors home for dinner.

The anbu were handling it the only way they knew how. 

Everything was going well right up to the moment, the neighbor’s front door opened and the anbu were face to face with Daito’s son. The boy was taller than Namiyo, but scrawny. His blond hair stuck up in an odd cowlick and a dusting of freckles was mostly hidden by a pair of glasses that rivale his fathers in their thickness and roundness. The kid’s face lit up when he saw Namiyo standing slightly behind Himitsu. 

“You must be the neighbors,” the boy said and without waiting for a response he turned and yelled into the house, “Company is here!” 

Himitsu let himself be shuffled into the house by the grinning kid.

Namiyo stayed rooted on the front porch, a blank expression on his face.

Himitsu jerked his head slightly, gesturing for Namiyo to move.

Namiyo blinked slowly, took a steadying breath, and stepped over the threshold.

The neighbor’s house was nice-- clean, and tastefully decorated with furniture that matched.

Getting seated at the dining room table was a whirlwind of introduction. There was Nariko, the wife, a clerk in the hokage’s office, with her dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun and a sweet smile. There was Kimiko, the daughter, 16, studying to be a nurse, with her mother’s wild dark hair and her father’s gentle looking face. Then there was Eiji, the son, who’s defining trait seemed to be his excitement and infatuation with Namiyo. 

The kid practically bounced in his chair when he snagged the seat next to the other boy.

Namiyo looked like he was going to be sick. He’d gone white as a sheet and his hands shook in his lap.

Himitsu smiled and mumbled his way through the introduction, not really paying attention. He was trying to figure out what had happened to Namiyo and whether it was time to abort the mission.

Talk stopped briefly as the table was set with a feast.

Himitsu used the clank of dishes and the scuffle of chairs on hardwood flooring to whisper to his charge, “Status?”

Namiyo’s hands were knotted into tight fists in his lap and there was a far away look in his eyes. He didn’t answer right away.

Himitsu nudged the boy under the table.

Namiyo nodded. “I’m alright.” 

Himitsu nodded and melded back into the rhythm of their hosts, passing serving bowls and filling plates.

“So Himitsu, are you from Konoha?” Nariko asked.

“Yes. I grew up on the other side of town.” Himitsu nodded his head in the general direction of north. The Northern side of the village was dominated by generic apartment complexes and near the anbu barracks, it was an easy setting for the backstory Himitsu meant to spin.

“What do you do for a living?” Nariko asked. She watched her guests with genuine interest.

“I’m a traveling merchant, but I’ve made arrangements for a leave of absence. Need time to get settled into a new home.”

“Where’s the coolest place you’ve been?” Kimiko interrupted. 

Himitsu thought for a minute. “Waterfall country,” he said. “The main road through the country follows a river through this deep gorge. The walls are lined with waterfalls and when the sun is right, the whole gorge fills with rainbows. It’s like walking through a dream.”

Kimiko’s eyes went wide. “When I graduate, I’m going to join a humanitarian mission and go see the world,” she declared.

Her parents didn’t look too thrilled with that idea and quickly changed the subject.

“Any hobbies you’ve picked up in your spare time?” Daito asked.

“Gardening,” Himitsu supplied and launched into a story about wrangling control of the backyard from the wild brambles that was half truth and half cover story from the time he’d had to infiltrate a minor noble’s household. 

Everyone laughed and Himitsu relaxed a bit. He nibbled at his food and surveyed the room. Namiyo was still sitting quietly, but he’d started fiddling with the food on his plate and Himitsu took that as a good sign.

“Namiyo are you going to school somewhere?” Daito asked.

Namiyo shook his head and moved the food on his plate around a bit more in the pretense of eating it.

“I’m homeschooling him for now,” Himitsu supplied.

“I’m going to Southern Middle School,” Eiji said. “It’s not very far away, so if you decide to go school sometime, we could walk together! And we can study together!” He squirmed in his seat with excimement and nudged Namiyo with his elbow.

Namiyo’s fork slipped from his fingers and clattered against the plate. Without another word, he was on his feet and out the door before anyone could say anything.

Himitsu stood quickly and bowed to their hosts. “I’m sorry for my nephews behavior and for the interruption of your dinner, but I need to go after him.”

Daito waved off the apology. “Of course. It’s not an issue. Go take care of your kid.”

Then Himitsu was gone too. He might have shushiined, but it didn’t really matter. Civilian identities were a secondary objective, protecting Namiyo was always primary.

Namiyo hadn’t gone far. 

Himitsu found the boy in the closet of his room wrapped in blankets and shaking like a leaf. He didn’t react when Himitsu eased the door open and crouched down in front of him.

“Talk to me,” Himitsu said. He put just a bit of a commanding tone behind the words.

Namiyo shuddered and turned away from Himitsu. He traced the scar on his head with shaking fingers and then pressed his hand flat to his head and whimpered.

Himitsu sighed and settled himself on the floor. This wasn’t going to be quick. “Graduation exam?” he asked.

Namiyo nodded.

Himitsu sighed again. “I guess I should have seen that coming. It’s been so long since mine and I’ve spent so long burying those memories that the memories are hazy. Your wounds are still fresh and you haven’t had a chance to get used to being around people your age again.”

“If I’d had a kunai on me, I’d have stabbed him,” Namiyo mumbled. “I thought he was…” Namiyo choked on the words for a second before he found the strength to spit them out. “...I thought he was going to attack, but he just bumped me. I almost put my fork in his throat.”

Himitsu nodded. He’d read Danzou’s notes in Namiyo’s file. The kid hadn’t been the one Danzou was betting on. He wasn’t aggressive. He was calm, rational, and difficult to provoke. He asked too many questions about Root philosophy. In the final exam, Namiyo let himself be beaten half to death before throwing up a barrier jutsu. It just so happened that the barrier he used was made of violent, barely contained lightning chakra. The explosion when the other soldier hit the barrier nearly took down the building. 

Himitsu’s blood boiled. Danzou’s last act in Root was to take a child whose instinct was to protect and defend and force him to lash out in fear. 

“Don’t stab me with anything, “ Himitsu ordered. “I’m coming in the closet too.”

Namiyo shifted over and let the older anbu slide in beside him.

When Himitsu slowly and gently put an arm around Namiyo’s shoulders the boy leaned against Himitsu’s side and cried.

“Do you think he hates me?” Namiyo mumbled.

Himitsu pulled the boy a little tighter to him. “I don’t really know how civilians see the world, but I feel like our neighbors are too kind for their own good. They won’t hold a bit of weirdness against us.”

Namiyo choked on a sound that was half sob and half laugh. “Bit of weirdness? We didn’t even make it through dinner and you definitely contradicted yourself with half the stories you told.”

Himitsu just shrugged and held his charge. “We’ve already established that my mouth sort of does its own thing.”

"Yeah it does," Namiyo agreed. "I was supposed to keep you from babbling."

It took awhile for Namiyo’s shoulders to stop shaking with silent sobs. In the stillness, Himitsu heard Namiyo’s stomach growl.

The boy winced. 

“How about we go get some food?” Himitsu suggested.

“I blew the mission. I’m a shitty teammate,” Namiyo muttered. He shifted out of Himitsu’s grip and stared at the floor. "You needed backup and my mind was a million miles away."

Himitsu sighed. “You’re not a shitty teammate. I picked you for this mission and I’d do it again. Besides the mission isn’t over yet. No one got stabbed and no one blurted out ‘Oh hey by the way, we’re part of a top secret division of the anbu that Danzou may have been planning to use to commit treason.’”

Namiyo just shook his head. 

“I won’t make you come with me, but I am going to bring you food and you’re going to eat it and we’re going to talk and then tomorrow we will try again,” Himitsu said.

Namiyo nodded.

When Himitsu opened the front door, he found a basket of food and a note on the porch.

“Himitsu,

Please don’t worry about tonight. We understand how difficult times of transition can be and how easy it is to find yourself overwhelmed. You and Namiyo are welcome anytime and if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. It is an honor to be able to pay forward the kindness our family received when we too stood at the beginning of a new journey.

\--Daito and Nariko”

Himitsu carried the food and the note inside and up to Namiyo’s room. “I think it’s safe to say they don’t hate us at all.”

The rest of the night, the two anbu sat in a nest of blankets, hidden from the world in a small walk-in closet, and talked about the things no one else would understand. 

When Namiyo talked himself to sleep, babbling about the life he thought he’d had before the anbu and all the things he’d secretly dreamed about in those too cold barracks, Himitsu carried him to bed and tucked him in the way he thought he remembered someone once did for him.

\---

Two weeks later…

Namiyo had settled into his new life and new home. He and Himitsu found their rhythm, dancing around each other in the mornings both in the kitchen and on the training grounds. Namiyo taught Himitsu to cook and Himitsu taught Namiyo a series of meditative sword forms. They explored the city together and played at being civilians, fell in love with little restaurants and collecting weird art for their imperfect little home. 

Himitsu had started to think of reintegration a bit like wading into a cool river on a hot day. A sudden dive stole your breath and chilled your core, but a gradual entrance left you floating peacefully in the gentle current.

  
Namiyo was in the market, picking up groceries, when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Eiji was walking home from school with his head down, kicking a rock in front of him.

Namiyo took a deep breath, steeled himself, and then darted forward to tap Eiji on the shoulder.

Eiji turned and a look of confusion turned to a smile. “Hey neighbor,” he grinned.

Namiyo gave a little half wave. “Hey. Can I walk home with you?”

Eiji absolutely beamed. 

The two boys walked home side by side. Eiji chattered on about what he was learning in school. They had just started studying chemistry and both boys realized they had a love of the subject. The rock Eiji had been kicking bounced between the 2 boys.

“Do you play soccer?” Eiji asked.

“No, but It seems fun.”

“You should come play sometime. There’s a bunch of kids from my school that play in the evenings. I could teach you.”

Namiyo nodded. “I’d really like that.”

From a nearby rooftop, Himitsu watched with a smile. Danzou had tried to twist Namiyo into a perfect weapon, but even the most carefully cultivated bonsai tree can burst free from its pot and grow wild after the death of its gardener. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tenzou tries to bond with Sai

Tenzou lay in bed, the first light of dawn was beginning to crest the mountains and slip between the slats of his bedroom blinds. The morning was quiet and cool, but the blankets were warm.

Tenzou had been awake for some time, when you are used to waking well before sunrise it becomes difficult to sleep through it, but taking a page from Kakashi’s play book the anbu was reluctant to get out of bed so early on his day off.

Tenzou didn’t give himself very many days off. He only agreed to take today because the hokage had insisted and justified it by pointing out Tenzou’s new charge was also scheduled off. 

It was the thought of his new charge that made Tenzou slip from the warm cocoon of his bed. Sai was undoubtedly awake and waiting. Tenzou had told the kid they had work to do today.

As he dressed, Tenzou thought back on the progress, or lack thereof, that he had made with Sai over the last month.

Sai had been in the studio apartment across the hall from Tenzou for almost a month and other than the food Tenzou kept putting in the cupboard, there was no indication that anyone had moved in.

Sai couldn’t be talked into anything but the standard issue bedding. He had no love of plants or decorations, let alone toys like Naruto and Sasuke had. 

Every shopping trip just left Sai and Tenzou both frustrated. 

“I have been sufficiently supplied. Anything else is frivolous.”

“I know it’s frivolous, but humor me. Sometimes pointless things are nice to have.”

Then Sai would give Tenzou a blank stare and swallow back some further argument and they would be left standing in some shop in awkward silence or the kid would relent and pick a something at random. Tenzou didn’t know what Sai did with the things afterwards. They seemed to just disappear.

Bond activities followed the same pattern of Tenzou trying to connect with Sai and draw the boy out of his shell, Sai declaring the activity unnecessary, and the going along to please Tenzou.

Meals and clothes were no different. Tenzou had tried feeding the kid everything under the sun and he ate without any reaction. Sai’s only preference in life was to follow anbu protocol to the letter.

It was driving Tenzou mad. He knew he couldn’t blame Sai for being exactly what he was groomed to be and he knew that a rigid adherence to the protocol was a coping mechanism. 

The worst part was that every interaction with Sai was heartbreakingly familiar. Tenzou had acted the same, carried the same complicated relationship with authority figures, trust, and loyalty, and knew first hand the pain hidden under that emotionless mask. All he wanted to ease that pain and give Sai the sort of life a 7 year old deserved.

The difference between them, Tenzou had found himself thinking, was that Sai was a better Root than Tenzou ever was. 

Tenzou had slipped up the day he met Kakashi. One kindness and he’d dropped his guard, given the other shinobi his loyalty without a second thought.

Sai was smart and well trained. He didn’t slip up. He didn’t give anyone anything to use against him. Just like Danzou always wanted, he was like a kunai, loyal to the hand wielding it.

That didn’t stop Tenzou from wishing on particularly bad days that Sai would slip up just a little bit and give him a chance to prove he wasn’t Danzou. All it would take is Sai opening a tiny crack in the emotionless persona he wore like armor. Tenzou could work with anything.

A knock on the door startled Tenzou out of his thoughts. He realized he’d been standing in the bathroom, staring at his reflection without seeing it for far too long.

Sai was at the door. As expected, he was wearing the standard issue anbu gear minus the cloak and mask. His go bag was slung over his shoulder and he was ready for whatever unofficial mission his commander had planned.

Tenzou opened the door with a smile. “Ready to go?”

Sai nodded. “Do we have a mission or are we training?”

“We can train later if you want, but first we’re going to do something fun.” Tenzou almost thought he saw Sai’s lips twitch towards a frown. 

Sai had hoped his commander was done with these non-missions. It had been 2 weeks since Tenzou insisted on something ‘fun’ (a small festival in the art district where the crowds set them both on edge and the civilians stared at 2 shinobi with a mix of curiosity, fear, and hostility). 

In that time, Sai had relaxed back into a familiar routine, taking short missions with the other Root and training with the commander. 

Not that he would admit it, but Sai had even started looking forward to the days he knew the commander wasn’t working. Tenzou was a good teacher and Sai could feel himself improving each time the commander trained with him. Many of Tenzou’s physical techniques that utilized wood-style creation translated smoothly to Sai’s ink-chakra creations and the man was willing to give Sai’s training his full attention, all day, on his off day-- something Danzou had never done even though he called Sai his protege. 

Sai had been looking forward to that same attention today. There was a list of questions he had prepared and forms he wanted Tenzou to critique. 

Now the commander was breaking that routine again. 

“Where are we going?” Sai asked as he followed Tenzou through the village. 

Tenzou blinked in surprise and then smiled. Sai didn’t usually speak first. “A store I found. I think you’ll like it.”

“We will still be able to train later today?” 

Tenzou nodded. “Sure. And I’m stuck in the village for meetings the rest of the week, so we can train in the evenings too.”

Sai nodded and bounced on his toes as he walked. It was an unconscious change. He had already decided that today he would play the commander’s game without complaint, but knowing that as soon as he convinced the commander they were having ‘fun’ they could go to the training grounds was extra incentive to play his part right. 

Sai had been reading up on ‘fun’ and had a pretty good idea of what it looked like now. As soon as he identified what was supposed to be the maximum ‘fun,’ he would take the commander’s hand, smile, and thank him. It was how a fair number of the picture books ended.

  
  
  


Tenzou led the way through the village’s small art district. The booths and tables from the festival were long gone and the narrow, cobblestone street was quiet. The only one to see the shinobi was a potter up early, working her wheel in front of her shop.

Tenzou always liked the art district. The buildings were squeezed close together and no two were painted the same color. It left lots of small, deeply shadowed spaces for a young shinobi to lurk and people watch. People watching had been Tenzou’s favorite Danzou approved hobby as a child.

The people of the art district tended to be as eccentric as their homes. Bright colored, flowing clothes and elaborate hairstyles were common. On nice days, many of them brought their workoutside.

Tenzou had stumbled on their current destination weeks before, when he scouted out the festival. He’d thought Sai would enjoy the different paintings and murals that were part of the festival, he hadn’t counted on the crowds or how sorely 2 shinobi would stand out.

Now, Tenzou was hoping the shop would make up for the disappointment of the festival. 

The 2 anbu stopped where the street widened and merged with 4 others to form a small circle. The buildings here were covered in brilliant, painted flowers. The garden mural was the work of a dozen local painters and the paint was made in-house by a small shop, the same shop Tenzou had been so excited to find.

Sai’s breath caught in his throat when they stepped into the circle. In the morning sun, the painted flowers seemed to glow. The colors were so vibrant. He wanted to look closer, run his fingers over the brush strokes. Some of the flowers were painted in the traditional style that Sai favored in his work, but others were hyper realistic or heavily stylized. Sai training kept him rooted to his place just to the right and slightly behind his commander.

“There’s this little shop that makes all kinds of paint and ink,” Tenzou explained. “I thought you might be interested.”

Sai nodded thoughtfully, his eyes flickered between Tenzou and their surroundings. It could have been the anbu’s usual watchfulness, but Tenzou really hoped it was because Sai was interested in the paintings. 

Sai was an expert at deflecting questions about the sketchbook he carried and brushing off his art as a tool, nothing more, but he couldn’t hide the hours of work he put into his craft. 

Tenzou figured if anything was going to tempt the kid out of his anbu persona, it would be art.

“Very few inks are able to mix with chakra,” Sai said, but he didn’t protest when Tenzou headed for the shop.

The paint shop was rather unassuming from the outside, narrow and rectangular with small windows. It’s most distinguishing feature was the rose bush painted near the front door. Everytime Tenzou walked by he was surprised that it didn’t smell like roses.

When his commander stepped through the door, Sai hesitated to follow for just a heartbeat. His fingers traced the graceful sweep of a stem of roses painted on the smooth plaster wall. He could feel the ridges where the artist had layered the paint thickly to add texture and dimension.

Tenzou didn’t notice Sai’s moment of hesitation. The boy was inside on Tenzou’s heels before the door could finish swinging closed.

Tenzou did hear Sai take a deep breath when his eyes adjusted to the relatively dim interior of the store. 

The store was deep and much bigger than it appeared from the outside. Rows of shelves stretched into the distance covered with vials, bottles, jugs, and cans of paints, inks, dyes, and pigment powder. Beside each was a color swatch. The walls were covered in canvas paintings and behind the canvases, the wall was painted with different murals.

“Think you can find some chakra compatible ink?” Tenzou asked. There was a mischievous glint in his eye.

Sai nodded and moved for the first shelf without any prompting. 

Tenzou trained behind his charge, content to watch Sai read the ingredient labels and examine the color swatches.

“What are you looking for?” 

Sai was rubbing a piece of cloth dyed electric blue. “There are certain chemicals that I have found do not retain chakra well. Unfortunately they are very common in most dyes and inks. Even if the ink doesn’t contain incompatible chemicals, there are certain types that work better. You want something that dries fast without smudging.”

Tenzou hummed thoughtfully. “Do the ingredients change how the jutsu works? Like different formulas do for paper bombs? Do some things make your constructs last longer?”

Sai shrugged. “No idea.” He glanced at Tenzou with a spark in his eyes. “I’ve never heard of anyone else who uses ink the way I do. I keep notes on what works. Someday, I’ll be able to teach others.” There was a note of pride in Sai’s voice.

“You should get a bunch of different things, then,” Tenzou suggested. “We can try them all out.” He saw the way Sai’s eyes lit up just thinking of all the possibilities and for a moment he was reminded of Kakashi. Kakashi got that same look when he was about to show off some new lightning jutsu and Tenzou had been shocked enough to know it by heart.

Sai’s fingers brushed the bottle of electric blue dye and slipped onto the next bottle.

When they reached the back of the store for the first time, Sai stopped in his tracks. This time, Tenzou did notice.

The back wall was one big mural. Like the rose by the front door, it was deceptively realistic, but instead of a single flower, this depicted a whole meadow.

Red kunai blossoms and purple lupine rose above sweet grass, blue bells bloomed under the eaves of the forest, and within the painting the light of the golden hour was forever frozen.

“You ever try painting something like that?” Tenzou asked.

Sai shook his head. “I use ink mostly. Paint mixes alright with chakra, but it breaks down quickly and is difficult to remove from the paper intact. I usually just end up with a pile of paint chips.” He wasn’t really paying attention to Tenzou. He was trying to separate the individual colors within the painting and figure out how the artist had captured the light.

“What about painting something just to paint something?”

Sai glanced back at Tenzou. “Never had a reason to. I’m not an artist. Ink is just a means to an end.” 

Tenzou raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen enough of your creations to disagree. They’re definitely art.”

Sai shook his head again. “They’re just jutsu. Art has feelings. Jutsu’s have a purpose.” He went back to staring at the painting.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Tenzou nudged Sai. “You know the wall in my living room?”

“The one you had a tree growing in for a while?”

Tenzou winced. He’d been showing off his mokuton and gotten a bit carried away. “Yeah. I got rid of the tree and patched the wall, but it needs to be repainted. Maybe you could help me do something better than a plain wall?”

Sai frowned. “I’m not an artist,” he repeated.

Tenzou shrugged. “You’ve got a lot more experience with a paintbrush than I do.”

Sai just frowned.

He frowned when Tenzou insisted on buying all 12 of the inks that Sai identified as potentially compatible with his jutsus and when the commander badgered him into picking a bunch of paint colors, but he didn’t resist. He frowned the whole way back to the anbu compound.

Halfway back, Sai realized he had missed his opportunity to show he was having fun. He mentally kicked himself. 

“Purchasing all of the inks was unnecessary,” Sai mumbled. 

“I know, but you were excited about trying them,” Tenzou replied. 

Sai swallowed hard. His heart beat harder and faster. His hand curled around the strap of his go bag.

Tenzou noticed the way Sai tensed. “Besides, I owe you a thank you for humoring me. I know you would rather be training.”

Sai glanced down at the road under his feet. He’d intended to feign interest in today’s activity to please the Commander, but it appeared his ruse had been detected. “You’re my commander. I follow your orders, even when you try to pretend they aren’t orders.”

Tenzou didn’t know what to say to that. He just hugged the bag of paints and brushes a little tighter to his chest.

When they arrived back at the anbu housing complex, Sai followed Tenzou back to the commander’s apartment.

Tenzou set the bag on the table. He fished out Sai’s ink and held them out to the boy. “I know you’ve been through a lot the last few months and I know you don’t believe me, but I just want to help you.”

“I do believe you,” Sai replied. He accepted the box of carefully packaged bottles. “You’re a good teacher. I know I’m stronger now. And you’re a good commander. Mission successes are up and casualties are down. You’ve made all of Root stronger, but there are some things you can’t fix. It’s okay. Not everyone has to be art.”

Tenzou fought to keep his face neutral as his heart broke.

Sai turned and left without another word. 

When Tenzou heard the door across the hall close, he collapsed into one of the dining chairs and buried his head in his hands. 

\---

It was well into the evening and Tenzou was still at the table, tracing the grain mindlessly, when someone knocked on the door.

Tenzou opened it to find Sai holding a large scroll. His fingers were stained with ink.

Tenzou stepped aside and invited Sai in. 

  
Sai went straight for the living room. He stared at Tenzou’s patched wall for a long minute before he unrolled the scroll, held it up, and glaced between the wall and the scroll.

Tenzou made his way to Sai’s side and the boy offered him the scroll. “It’ll hide all the uneven spots and if you make the support structures sprout branches again at least they’ll blend in,” Sai said.

Tenzou nodded. The scroll was a mockup of a mural of a garden. It wasn’t as elaborate or hyper realistic as the mural in the paint store, but it was beautiful. In Sai’s style, the plants were all smooth, flowing lines. It was simple, but elegant with just enough detail for the flowers to be recognizable.

“So how do we actually put this on the wall?” Tenzou asked.

“Usually you use a paintbrush.”

Tenzou sighed. “Very funny. I figured that much.”

\---

Sai quickly taught Tenzou the basics of proper brush use, how to hold it, how to draw smooth lines by pulling the brush towards yourself, and a couple different texture techniques.

Almost as quickly, Sai demoted Tenzou to painting the grass along the baseboards.

“Am I that bad at it?” Tenzou asked, teasingly.

Sai pursed his lips and chose his answer carefully. “No, but you don’t send genin to do jounin’s job and you paint like a genin.”

Tenzou laughed at that. He sat on the floor and painted his grass in 4 different shades of green while Sai climbed on chairs and painted the rest of the garden. 

They worked mostly in silence, but it was an easy silence. 

Tenzou watched Sai out of the corner of his eye. The kid had a habit of biting the tip of his tongue when he was deep in concentration. When he flicked his brush to finish off a stroke, a little splatter of color landed on his face, giving him a dusting of rainbow freckles. 

Standing on his very tip toes, on a chair, on the table to paint the towering stalk of a sunflower, Sai finally seemed like the child he was. There was an air of contentment around him as he worked and Tenzou wanted nothing more than to freeze the moment.

It was late into the night when they finished.

The two anbu stood back to survey their handiwork.

“How’d you decide what to paint?” Tenzou asked. “It’s perfect.”   
  
Sai shrugged. “I looked at a book of plants and chose the shapes that fit best with the cracks and patches. Like I said, it’s not really art. There’s no feeling or meaning. It serves a purpose and that’s it.”

Tenzou put a hand on Sai’s shoulder. “It’s perfect,'' he repeated.

Sai nodded. “I’m going to bed. I didn’t get in my training hours today.”

“If you want, I can meet you at the training grounds after work tomorrow.”

“I’ll bring my new ink.”

Then Sai was gone.

Tenzou didn’t go to bed right away. He knew he’d regret it when he was stuck in a meeting the next morning, but he couldn’t stop staring at the mural. Regardless of what Sai said, he did feel things. Under his facade, he was proud of his skills and he found peace in creating, he liked the stability of a routine, and preferred to train with Tenzou. 

But he’d shut down all of those things if Tenzou pushed too hard. 

Staring at Sai’s ‘practical flowers,’ Tenzou made his decision. Kakashi had more or less forcibly dragged Tenzu out of his shell and that had worked for Tenzou, but it wasn’t working for Sai. He needed to do it at his own pace. 

Tenzou’s instinct was to break down barriers, to push for change, to give his kid the life he deserved right now. But, Sai didn’t want it. His barriers made him feel safe and he didn’t want everything to change. He wouldn’t choose to suddenly start living a safe, happy, normal life over his anbu life.

The reality was finally setting in. All Tenzou could do was love Sai as he was and offer the kid his support. 

So while the paint dried, Tenzou resolved to do just that. He’d protect Sai from as much as he could, support and encourage the kid to grow past Danzou’s limits, train him, and leave the final decision to Sai. And if in the end, if Sai decided he wanted to be a weapon-- fine, but Tenzou would be damn sure he wasn’t treated like one. The council would have to kill Tenzou before they touched Sai. Protege or not, the kid was 7 and Tenzou wasn't going to let them destroy any more genius children. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seiko's used to hiding all behind different sorts of masks, disappearing into the details, and hiding in plain sight. Sometimes, she want to be seen.

The bathroom in Seiko’s apartment was small, but the lighting was good and the mirror filled the whole wall above the sink and narrow counter. The anbu had a narrow face with subtle bone structure. It was a plain face and that suited her just fine. With the kit laid out in front of her, she could become anyone. 

Today though, Seiko wanted to be Seiko. Her makeup was subtle-- foundation, bit of blush, minimal highlights, earth tone eyeshadow over brown eyes, thin eyeliner that stopped at the edge of her lid.

All that was left was a statement piece, some stand out detail to draw the eye. Undercover work had taught Seiko that at the end of the day, all most people would remember is the statement-- a birthmark, a bruise, a mole, even a piece of jewelry worked, but she preferred makeup. 

Seiko smiled and uncapped a tube of red lipstick, the color of the poppies in her window box. It would certainly be a statement.

Seiko outlined her lips using a small brush and smooth, precise strokes. Then she filled them in with the stick. The routine was soothing. It was part of what drew her to undercover work in the first place. 

The makeup brushes didn’t feel so different from the calligraphy brushes she’d fallen in love with before Root. It took the same steady hand and controlled flick of the wrist to paint her lips the color of summer. 

The act of creation was a balm to the soul of an instrument of destruction. When Danzou took her paper and ink (Root didn't waste time writing pretty words) she turned her brushes to her skin. Her plain face had the infinite beauty of a blank scroll.

When she was done, Seiko smiled at the mirror. Her gaze skipped over the rest of the reflection, settling on the lips. The red had just a faint orange tint to it. It went perfect with the peach colored sundress she’d picked for the day’s adventure.

Seiko had found the dress in a stockpile of clothes the anbu kept for undercover missions 3 years earlier. She’d fallen in love with it immediately and every time she had to use the stock pile, she found herself checking to see if it was still there. She never ended up with a mission that would give her the excuse to wear the dress, and it seemed no one else did either.

When Seiko went to return the ceremonial robes from her last mission, the man in charge of the stockpile had handed back her anbu gear with the dress folded up inside her cloak. 

Of course the dress was too big for Seiko and the style was somewhat outdated. 

Seiko could only imagine what the seamstress had thought of an anbu, mask and all, slipping in the front door just before closing time. The look of shock on the old woman’s face when said anbu pulled a dress out of her bag had made Seiko grin. The progression from confusion and confirm, to surprise, back to confusion, and then to a professional mask took comically long.

It took 2 weeks for the dress to be ready and another month before Seiko ran out of excuses not to wear it. 

No major missions on the horizon, all her injuries, and paperwork done.

Seiko pulled on the dress. The bodice was fitted over her shoulders and chest. Then the dress fell loose to her knees. The material was light and seemed to float around her. The sleeves were made of lace and ended just below the elbow. A ring of flowers was embroidered along the hem in bright red, yellow, pink, and white.

Seiko fluffed her hair, squared her shoulders, and stepped out of her apartment.

On the street in front of the anbu housing, Seiko melted into the crowd, matching the speed and rhythm of the morning rush like she belonged there. It was instinctive and that was a good thing. This was the first time in years that Seiko had been out in public without a mask or disguise of some sort and her chest was tight with nerves. When she smiled and felt the makeup on her face pull slightly it eased the anxiety.

Seiko could feel eyes on her, but she made herself dismiss them. Of course people were looking at her. She hadn’t dressed to blend in. If there was a threat, Seiko was confident muscle memory and instinct would be sufficient to defend herself. That and the kunai holster strapped to her thigh, easily accessed through a false pocket.

The further Seiko headed from the anbu housing and the town center, the number of obvious shinobi dwindled. 

In the shopping district was a street with several different clothing shops and the sort of little cafes that specialized in scones and pastries. It was cute and vibrant and the sort of place anbu didn’t frequent.

Seiko had been dying to visit for years.

When she’d been a trainee under Danzou, her big act of rebellion was to sneak out between lessons. There was a little boutique that specialized in makeup. Sandwiched between 2 taller buildings, its roof was always in shadow. Seiko would sit there and watch the shoppers below. They always looked so happy.

The dress shop across the street had big front windows and everyone would stand in front of them when they tried on clothes, so they could see it in the natural light. 

Then there were the smells. Something sweet was always baking. 

Those quiet moments on the roof had gotten Seiko through her training. In the worst moments of her life, that’s where she pictured herself. When she was captured and interrogated by the rock dynamo, it was all she talked about-- the pretty dresses and fancy tea cakes. They’d released her with an apology. Who would ever imagine an empty headed noble girl, whose single passion in life was shopping, was actually an elite enemy spy? Why should the guards bother to check if the shops she babbled about even existed? 

Finally Seiko was going to get to go in those shops. A new cafe had opened and they were advertising fruit tarts with mango. MANGO! Seiko had fallen in love with it on her first undercover mission and had it rarely since.

When she made it to the shops, Seiko had to fight the urge to press her face against the glass and gawk. 

The street was crowded, but no one seemed to be in a big hurry and they parted easily around Seiko.

“I need more civilian clothes,” Seiko mumbled to herself.

That was all the excuse she needed.

The anbu ducked in the first shop.

The first thing Seiko picked up was a scarf made of the same light, airy material as her dress. It was dyed a dozen different shades of pink and purple. Her first thought was how pretty it would look with her dress or with a black blouse. He second thought was how much Danzou would hate it. Undercover anbu never wore necklaces and they never wore scarves. Sure, things around your neck were liabilities in a fight, but the man had carried a hatred for unnecessarily frilly things that went far beyond reason.

Seiko grinned at the scarf and bought it without hesitation. The satisfaction that bloomed in her chest when she tied it on was the same sort she associated with the moment in a fight that you knew you had your opponent right where you wanted them. 

5 stores and 2 hours later, Seiko had three bags of clothes and a civilian outfit for each occasion she could think of.

The feeling of eyes on her was starting to wear on her and the crowd was heavier now that the early morning hours were gone.

Seiko was ready for lunch and mango fruit tarts. She was picturing a quiet little cafe. She could get a seat in the corner where no one could sneak up on her and she could relax a bit.

The cafe Seiko wanted to try was not a quiet little cafe. 

The street outfront was crowded and the line to order extended out the door.

If it hadn’t smelled so good from the street, Seiko wouldn’t have forced herself into the line. As it was, Seiko reluctantly joined the line.

They moved painfully slowly. Seiko felt like she was going to faint. It was hot in the sun, surrounded by other bodies. Overlapping conversations turned into a dull roar, meaningless and rapidly being drowned out by the blood rushing in Seikos’s ears.

Seiko tried to focus on breathing. In her mind, she pictured her favorite poem, imagining how she would take it apart word by word and stroke by stroke for calligraphy. She could all but feel the brush in her hand and slowly, the feeling of drowning in sensations began to fade.

Then someone jostled Seiko and broke her concentration. The young man who bumped her reached out to steady Seiko. There was an apology on his lips, but she never heard it. 

Seiko moved on pure instinct and muscle memory, just like she’d counted on. 

Next thing she knew, she was standing over the young man she’d just flipped over her hip onto the pavement. He was gasping like a fish on land, the landing had knocked the wind out of him. 

The street was eerily silent and everyone was staring.

“Sorry. I’m… I’m sorry,” Seiko stammered. 

Then she bolted.

Seiko ducked into the nearest alleyway and leaned against the wall. She was shaking.

“I wasn’t even thinking. I don’t know why I did that,” she berated herself. “Dammit. I can spend months pretending to be some rice farmer in Kiri, but I can’t make it through lunch time as me.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Seiko flinched and fought the urge to draw a kunai. 

The guy she’d flipped was standing at the entrance of the alley looking sheepish and very definitely not a threat.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed at you like that,” he apologized.

“I’m the one who threw you on the ground. I think I’m the one who gets to apologize,” Seiko said with a shaky laugh.

The man laughed too and ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m just lucky all you did was throw me. Most of the shinobi I know would have done worse.”

Seiko winced.

“You are a shinobi right?” 

“That obvious?”

The man stepped closer, just outside of arm’s reach. 

Seiko sighed. “Of course it was obvious. I flipped you.”

The man shrugged. 

Seiko figured they were close in age, both early 20s. He was about the same height as her, short for a man. His light brown hair was short and spiky and he had an easy smile with a dimple in his left cheek. 

“Haru Aburame,” he held out his hand. “I’m a pharmacist, but most of my extended family are shinobi. I know the look. Had you pegged before the whole flipping thing.”

Seiko shook the offered hand. “Seiko. Sorry again. I just got back from a mission and I guess I’m still jumpy.”

Haru’s eyes met Seiko’s and she swore she saw him blush. “Sorry if this is weird, but can I buy you lunch.”

“Only if you let me buy. I still can't believe I flipped you. I am so sorry.”

Haru just laughed.

They had lunch in a much quieter cafe. Haru was charming and funny. He had the anbu laughing at stories of the misadventures he’d had growing up with a whole slew of shinobi cousins.

“Can I ask you something kind of weird?” Seiko asked.

“Sure,” Haru said. 

“Do all Aburame have bugs?”

Haru winced. “Not a fan of bugs?” he guessed.

Seiko quickly shook her head. “I don’t mind them. Just curious. I’ve worked with Aburame shinobi a couple times, good shinobi but not real talkative.”

Haru’s shoulders relaxed and he held out his hand across the table. A bug no bigger than a grain of rice crawled across his palm. “All Aburame bond with their insects shortly after birth.”

“Makes sense. It’s almost more like a kekkei genkai than a clan jutsu that way.”

Haru nodded. “And they’re handy for things outside of shinobi work. These guys are excellent at detecting different chemical compounds. It’s a big help at work,” he explained. 

They lapsed into silence, Seiko watched insect explore the table. 

“Can I ask you something kind of weird?” Haru asked, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Seiko smiled back. “Fair is fair.”

“Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

Seiko laughed. “We just had lunch.”

“That’s why it’s weird.”

Under the table, Seiko’s clenched fists relaxed. This sort of question she could answer. 

“It’s okay if you aren’t interested,” Haru added when Seiko didn’t answer right away,

“I’d love to go to dinner.”

Haru beamed and Seiko couldn’t help but smile back. Something about him put her at ease. 

“It’s a date,” Haru declared. “How about tomorrow? I can pick you up at 6 when I get off work.”

“How about I meet you by your work?” Seiko offered quickly. There was a big difference between a shinobi and an anbu, especially in the eyes of a civilian. She wasn’t quite ready to see if Haru would mind the difference and meeting in front of the anbu housing would be a dead give away. 

Haru nodded. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote down the address of the pharmacy he worked at on a napkin. 

“I have to get back to work,” he apologized. 

“See you tomorrow.”

Seiko was left staring at that napkin.  _ He even has cute handwriting _ , she thought. There was a stupid smile on her face when she headed for home.

\--- 

The next day, a Root meeting ran long, so Seiko found herself going straight from the meeting to dinner with Haru. Luckily, she’d packed for the possibility.

A small makeup kit was part of Seiko’s shinobi kit and in her bag she’d packed a black jacket and the scarf she’d bought the day before. The jacket hid her anbu tattoo and broke up the silhouette of a shinobi. The scarf was her statement piece, bright against the black.

It wasn’t until she was standing outside the pharmacy, a small, tan cube of a building, that Seiko realized she was still wearing her kunai holster.

At that moment, Haru walked out the front door and waved. 

_ Too late now _ , Seiko thought.  _ Guess I find out if he’s really not freaked out by shinobi. _

Haru picked a restaurant nearby. It was one of those places with a grill at the table and you ordered plates of food to cook.

When they were seated, Seiko fidgetted with the bottom hem of her jacket. 

“So what do you like to eat?” Haru asked. 

Seiko almost sighed with relief. Without a cover story, she had no idea what to talk about. It wasn’t like her life lent itself to small talk. The weather could only get you so far.

Seiko glanced at the menu. “I’m not picky…” She trailed off, one thing on the menu catching her eye. “You ever had mango?”

Haru shook his head. “Nope. Is it good?”   
  
Seiko smiled and things got easier from there.

Grilled mango was fantastic. 

Haru thought the slices looked like these yellow slugs he saw in a book once. His face when he took a tentative bite was priceless. “It’s good,” he declared.

Seiko snickered.

“So where did you have mangoes? Not that I’m any sort of foody, but I hadn’t really heard of them before.”

The answer rolled off Seiko’s tongue without a thought. “I spent 6 month on a mission in the Land of Waterfalls. I had a mango for breakfast everyday and that alone made it the best job I’ve ever had.”

Haru laughed.

Seiko stiffened as she realized what she just said. A 6 month mission wasn’t normal.  _ Maybe Haru wouldn’t know that though? _

Haru saw Seiko tense and stopped laughing.

“Hey,” he said gently. “If that’s something you weren’t supposed to say, I already forgot it.”

Seiko shook her head. “It’s not that.” How was she supposed to explain that she’d spent so much of her life either pretending to be someone else or pretending to be no one behind a porcelain mask that she didn’t know how to talk about herself? How was she supposed to explain that outside of mission reports she’d never even tried to tell anyone about what she did?

Seiko swallowed. “I’m sorry. I’m not a very good date. I’m kind of married to the job, so I don’t have much else to talk about and you don’t want to hear about that.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to hear about your job?”

“Tends to freak civilians out.”

Haru rolled his eyes. He leaned forward and very seriously said, “Seiko, I have bugs living under my skin. That tends to freak everybody out.” Then he ruined it by grinning.

Seiko laughed. 

Haru sat back and smiled. “What’s the land of waterfalls like?”

“Beautiful in a totally alien way. Everything is green and growing. Even the dirt has these little tiny plants and bits of moss in it. The trees are huge, 5 times as big around as the biggest tree in fire country and 3 times as tall. It rains everyday, but the rain is warm. When the sun comes out, everything just shimmers.”

Seiko closed her eyes. She could feel the rain on her skin, smell the fresh earth, and hear the distant roar of a waterfall.

“It’s mountainous. After the rain, every path and cliff turns into a waterfall. Everyone learns to manipulate their chakra enough to walk on water and they build their villages up in the treetops. Instead of roads they have these bridges between trees.”

“It sounds beautiful,” Haru breathed.

  
“Their politics are questionable and their view of women is antiquated to say the least, but the scenery alone is worth the trip,” Seiko admitted.

They ordered a small bottle of sake and passed it back and forth as the evening slipped into night.

Haru never pushed when Seiko’s stories trailed off, but he couldn’t seem to get enough of the stories. For her part, Seiko was fascinated by Haru’s family. He had 3 sisters, all younger, and they grew up next door to his cousins-- 2 boys just older than Haru. The 6 of them were best friends and they got up to all sorts of trouble together.

“Do you have any siblings?” Haru asked.

“Sort of. I didn’t grow up with my blood family, but my team’s a kind of family.”

“What are they like?” 

Seiko thought about that and took a swig of alcohol, savoring the way it burned her throat and made her fingertips tingle. “We’re all kind of a mess honestly. Too much shinobi training and not enough socialization with normal people, makes for an eccentric bunch. But we’re all trying to figure it out. Some of them don’t talk. Some of them just sort of talk all the time. My one little brother paints the most amazing pictures and he’ll swear they don’t mean anything, but he carries this sketchbook with him everywhere and I once saw him painting flowers and leaving them by the memorial stone.”

“What about you?” Haru asked. His cheeks were flushed and he was pleasantly tipsy. He couldn’t stop staring at Seiko.

“What about me?”

“You have the prettiest eyes, but it seems like you don’t want people to look at them. You draw attention everywhere else.”

A shiver ran down Seiko’s spine. He saw her. She could change her clothes, change her hair, even change the contours of her face. She couldn’t change her eyes. It’s why she never made them her statement piece.

“Eyes are honest,” Seiko sighed. “For an anbu, they’re a liability. I’ve only been caught undercover twice and both times were because someone remembered my eyes.” Without thinking, her fingers brushed the scar that ran across her throat. It was hidden beneath the scarf today. Yesterday it had been covered by a heavy layer of foundation. “And I guess, it’s a little scary to have people see the real me when I’m still trying to figure out who that is.”

Haru nodded. “That’s an easy one. You’re Seiko, lover of mangoes.”

They both laughed until they cried and Seiko finally figured out why she felt so at ease with Haru. When he looked at her, he didn’t look at the details. He looked at the whole picture and he did it without judgement. In his eyes, the answer really was that simple

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible liar. I have no poker face,” Haru added.

Seiko snickered. “Yeah I noticed. It’s nice.”

Seiko let Haru walk her home.

Standing in front of the anbu housing complex, in the moonlight, Haru carefully stepped into Seiko’s space.

This time, she didn’t flip him.

She did kiss him back and he really thought for a minute that she had flipped him.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Haru asked. 

Seiko smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I goofed a little bit and had things out of order on my plot outline. The adult anbu from this chapter has her own backstory that takes place before Chapter 29 of Part of the Pack. I just posted it in this story. It's now chapter 2 (between Deer/Riku-the-Cat and Chapter 29 of Part of the Pack which are now chapter 1 and chapter 3 of this story respectively.
> 
> Sorry for the confusion.

Megumi’s alarm went off at 4:30 AM. She rolled out of bed and stretched. Her back cracked as she twisted and she let out a satisfied sigh. 

Megumi got dressed quickly. She left her wire mesh armor in the closet in favor of a lightweight t-shirt. The dark purple shirt was one of her favorites. It was the same color as the sky when the first rays of light slipped from behind the Hokage monument. It was also entry number 6 on Megumi’s “list of things I love” (the shirt, not the color-- the color was number 3).

Megumi laced her sandals tight and slipped on her mask. The white porcelain was painted with a stylized bird. Megumi always liked her mask. It reminded her of spring time in another life, hazy memories of a farmhouse and chickens.

When Megumi stepped out of her room, she found herself facing another mask. 

Kana was lacing up her sandals by the front door. 

“You don’t have to go with me,” Megumi said.

The younger girl nodded. “I know.” Then she yawned loudly. 

The pair had only returned from a mission a few hours earlier. Megumi hadn’t expected to have a running partner this morning. 

“I want to,” Kana added.

Megumi smiled behind her mask. 

They left the anbu housing together, 2 shadows in the predawn light.

Megumi set the pace and Kana fell into step beside her.

As they ran, Megumi was free to think. Her thoughts turned to the younger anbu to her right. Kana, at 13, was tall for her age and Megumi was small. The teen could match Megumi step for step as they leapt from roof to roof. Kana had been with Megumi for 6 months. She would be turning 14 soon. Megumi needed to do some research and figure out the proper way to celebrate. She’d already bought Kana a new katana, one of the damascus blades from Iwa with a beautiful wave pattern to the steel.

Kana was skilled with a sword and trained in infiltration techniques. She delighted in sparring with a sword, called it dancing. 

The day Kana moved into Megumi’s spare room, the pair had settled into an easy routine. Their shared training made cohabitating and working together instinctive. 

In the kitchen, they danced around each other, passing utensils and spices back and forth. It was nice to cook with someone else. They ate dinner and talked about missions.

In the morning, when Megumi went for her run, Kana joined her without question. That first morning, Kana had stumbled out of her room blurry eyed and confused at the sound of Megumi’s alarm. She’d still insisted on coming along.

Sure, there had been some bumps in the road. Miscommunications and mistrust came from the same place as their easy camaraderie, but overall the two had settled into each other’s life like puzzle pieces fitting together.

The 2 anbu left the village behind. Ahead of them, the forest loomed. 

They took the trees, skipping from branch to branch. The morning air was heavy with the scent of last night’s rain. Fall was in full swing and the thick carpet of fallen leaves gave the air an earthy note. 

They stayed in the trees for 3 miles, before the ground became rocky and the trees became smaller and fewer.

From there, the anbu returned to the ground, following a well worn path the rest of the way to the top of the Hokage monument.

They paused on top of the rocky bluff. 

Kana sat on a rock and pulled a notebook the size of a deck of cards and a pencil out of her pocket. The notebook was the first thing Megumi had given Kana on that first night after Kana moved in from the Root barracks.

Megumi saw the notebook and sat down too, taking the minute to stretch her calves. The run uphill always made them tight and a cramp while going back down was the last thing she wanted.

\---

Both anbu remembered that first night clearly.

Megumi had a big batch of hot chocolate and they sat across the table from each other, both trying to figure out what to say.

In the end, Megumi’s practical nature won out over nerves and she launched head first into the complicated things. 

“I know we’re taught not to have feelings and desires, but it’s a stupid rule. You can’t live that way. At least not forever,” Megumi said. She’d held the notebook out to Kana. “It helps me to write down the things I like and the things that make me happy. I thought it might help you. I want you to be happy.”

Kana took the notebook and ran her fingers across the leather cover. “What do you write in yours?” she asked carefully. 

“It’s just a list. Things like hot chocolate and running just to run before the rest of the world wakes up. Like the market on 6th street by the academy,” Megumi listed them off. “Like watching the little kids at the academy play between classes.”

“That’s creepy.” Kana said.

Megumi shrugged. “Anbu are creepy.”

Kana had raised an eyebrow at that.

“I just like remembering who I’m taking these missions to protect and they’re so weird and cute and small, “ Megumi added defensively.

Kana laughed. “I was teasing. I like little kids too. They’re funny.”

Megumi relaxed after that. 

“How about liking bright colors? Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Could I wear a pink cape on missions?”

“No. You’ll get yourself stabbed.”

“Fair…”

“You can wear a pink cape whenever you’re not on missions,” Megumi offered.

Kana burst out laughing. That night, she’d added at least 50 things to her notebook. Number 1 was Megumi. Number 2 was her new home. Number 3 was the notebook. Number 4 was being able to smile without wearing a mask.

\---

“What did you add?” Megumi asked when Kana put away her notebook. 

“Frost on fallen leaves,” Kana said. She hummed happily and looked up at the sky. There was a pink blush against the high, thin clouds.

Megumi snorted. “You sound like a poet.”

“Maybe I am a poet. You don’t know. Maybe I compose haiku in my head all day long,” Kana teased back

Megumi shook her head, the masked version of an eye roll.

“You don’t believe me?” Kana said in mock anger.

“Let’s hear one Basho.”

Kana was quiet for a minute. She used her fingers to count and behind her mask was mouthing words.

“Two shadows dancing

Before the sunrise. Joyous,

Sharp air and sharper blades”

“That was pretty good Basho,” Megumi smiled. She stood up and stretched for the sky. “You should write a whole book of them. Everyone would love them and then the anbu would become famous and everyone would follow us around trying to figure out which one is the legendary poet… Maybe you’d have to use a pen name.”

Kana just laughed. She stood up and copied her mentor. “An anbu poet. Danzou would roll in his grave.”

“Like a top,” Megumi agreed. 

They set off at a steady jog along the top of the monument and down into the valley on the opposite side.

This side of the forest was rockier. The trees were smaller, so the anbu stayed on the ground, scrambling over boulders and jumping fallen logs.

Kana scrambled up one particularly big boulder while Megumi went around.

“Careful,” Megumi called just as Kana launched herself off the boulder.

The girl hit the ground, tucked and rolled, and popped back up laughing. She was covered in dirt and had a small, yellow leaf stuck to her braid.

Megumi shook her head again.  _ Do all kids like throwing themselves off of things? _ She wondered.  _ I don’t remember doing that just for the fun of it _ .

At least with anbu training, Megumi didn’t have to really worry about Kana hurting herself.

They arrived back in the village just as the market was opening for the morning. 

“We need milk and eggs,” Megumi said, turning off of their usual path home.

Kana just nodded and followed.

If the grocer had thoughts on his first 2 customers of the day being a pair of anbu, one of which was covered in dirt, he kept them to himself.

When they walked into the store, Megumi went straight for the back wall where the cold groceries were. Kana meant to follow, but a block of color caught her eye and she lost sight of Megumi. 

In the front of the store, there was a stand of fresh cut flowers.

The 2 anbu met back at the checkstand. Megumi had the groceries. Kana had a bouquet of pink and purple kunai blossoms. 

Megumi grinned behind her mask as she paid for the groceries. She would have paid for the flowers too, but when she motioned for Kana to add them to the basket. The girl shook her head and insisted on paying herself.

Megumi just shrugged. Kana had plenty of money. She’d just been paid for an A-rank mission yesterday. 

They returned home walking in easy silence.

In the privacy of their apartment, both anbu shed their masks.

Megumi started cooking breakfast while Kana fussed with the flowers, finding a tall enough glass to use as a vase and setting them on the table. 

“Basho, you should come grab breakfast unless you’ve developed the power to sustain yourself on the beauty of nature alone,” Megumi teased.

Kana sighed. “You’re way too practical.” 

Megumi just laughed. “One of us has to be.”

“And one of us has to remind the other to stop and admire the view.”

As they ate, Megumi glanced around the apartment. In the last 6 months, it had become much more homey feeling with flowers on the table, a painting on the wall, spare blankets folded on the end of the couch, and a scented candle on the coffee table. Most of it was Kana’s doing. Everytime she came home from a mission, she bought some new, nice little thing for the house. She didn’t say anything, but Megumi understood. It was a way of shifting focus off of the mission and a way of taking back control. 

Megumi supposed she did the same thing-- new pots and pans, expensive bread from the speciality bakery, and new running shoes for both of them.

Their apartment didn’t look like it belonged to Root shinobi anymore. There were even a handful of pictures pinned to the wall above the desk-- Megumi and Kana in their anbu gear by the village gate after a rescue mission, Kana with paint on the bridge of her nose from when they painted the younger girl’s room, Commander Tenzou with Riku-the-cat drooling on his shoulder (taken at an informal Root meeting), and an old, water damaged picture of a man and woman with their 2 daughters in front of a chicken coop.

Megumi grabbed her notebook off the bookshelf.

“Whatcha adding?” Kana asked.

“Flowers on the table.”

Kana beamed.

\---

After breakfast, Kana went back to bed and Megumi sat at the desk to finish their mission report.

Kana found her still at the desk 2 hours later.

The finished report was sitting off to the side and Megumi was staring absently at the pictures.

“Have you gone looking for them?” Kana asked. She flopped onto the couch and looked at Megumi curiously. The older anbu didn’t talk about that picture, but Kana knew it had to be her family.

“Once,” Megumi admitted.

At that, Kana sat up. “And?”

Magumi shook her head. 

Kana sighed and didn’t push it. Family was a complicated subject for the Root anbu who remembered having one. Kana came from an orphanage in disputed territory between Konoha and Suna. She remembered her life before Root. For the most part, Root had been an improvement. At least she never went hungry.

Kana was always interested in the idea of a family, particularly what they were like and how to build one. 

“It was about 2 months after Danzou-sama was killed,” Megumi said. She winced when she realized she’d used the honorific for Danzou. It was a habit she’d worked to break. 

Just saying the man’s name made Megumi’s skin prickle with unease. She fiddled with the end of her braid, a nervous habit she never remembered picking up and even Danzou hadn’t been able to break her of it. “I don’t remember much from before Root and at that point I wasn’t sure if I was remembering reality or a dream.”

“But you have the picture?” Kana said, confused. 

Megumi nodded. “I do now.” 

“Oh. So you didn’t have anything solid when you went looking?”

“I asked Tenzou-sama for my files. I didn’t really expect him to give them to me, but he did and they gave me more questions than answers. According to them, I’m from Shirakawa.” 

“Where’s that?”

“Here, in Fire country. It’s a small, isolated village in the mountains. It’s very beautiful. They cleared a small river valley and the whole village is full of wildflowers.”

“So you went?” Kana’s eyes were wide.

Megumi nodded. “I asked the new commander for a week off.” Megumi smiled at the memory. She’d expected Tenzou to say no. He’d said yes and been quite excited that Megumi wanted to take a vacation. “When I got to Shirakawa, they weren’t thrilled to see me. Seems the last shinobi to come through were a group of anbu. They came to clear out a group of bandits and rogues in the mountains, stayed in the village, and took a child with them as payment for the job.” Megumi looked pointedly at Kana. “That was 19 years ago.”

Kana’s mouth dropped open. “It was you,” she whispered. 

Megumi nodded. “When I told them my story, they were much kinder. They showed me the house I was born and raised in, but my family left 15 years before. Seems they never got over losing a child. I found the picture in their house.”

“Have you kept looking?”

Megumi shook her head. “I don’t know where to even start. They never told anyone where they were going.”

Kana’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I feel better just knowing where I came from. It makes everything easier to know that I have roots outside of Root.” Megumi smiled then. “And I do have a family. It’s a bit unconventional, but it’s still good.”

“I wish…” Kana trailed off and looked away.

“I almost didn’t put this picture up with the rest,” Megumi said softly. Her fingers brushed lightly against the corner of her first family’s photo and then over the other pictures. “But I figured my first family should have a place with my new family.”

It took Kana a good couple seconds to realize Megumi’s pictures were who she was referring to as her new family and then connect that half the pictures were of the two of them. “It is a good family,” Kana said softly.

Megumi just nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

Deer returned from his mission in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t turn the light on when he stepped into his apartment and he made sure to shut the door softly.

When his eyes adjusted to the dark, a quick glance around the apartment revealed his suspicions were correct. There was a person sized lump on the couch.

_ Well, a small person _ , Deer amended. He stepped closer and smiled. 

It always surprised him how small Hiroshi was when he was finally holding still. 

Hiroshi was bundled under an impressive stack of blankets. The only thing part exposed was his head and that was mostly covered by a very large, orange cat. Of Hiroshi, there was only a tuft of blond hair visible.

Riku-the-Cat opened his one eye when Deer approached and blinked lazily up at the older anbu.

Deer found himself smiling. He reached out to gently scratch the cat’s ears. It was a preemptive apology for waking up the cat’s favorite bed.

Riku purred and Hiroshi’s eyes flickered open.

“Deer?” the boy mumbled.

“Yup. Tonight a bad night?” Hiroshi had been doing pretty well with sleeping through the night in his own bed, but nightmares still drove him to the comfort of the couch and company on occasion.

Hiroshi flailed around and managed to nudge the cat off his head, so he could sit up. “No. I was trying to wait up for you. Commander said I could expect you home tonight,” Hiroshi said. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. They were a brilliant green and almost seemed to glow in the dark like Riku’s.

Deer dropped onto the couch beside his kohai and the somewhat disgruntled cat. “How was your mission?” He pulled off his mask and ran a hand through his hair. It felt good to finally relax.

Riku, now that the giant kitten was awake, moved to Deer’s other side. It put the anbu between him and Hiroshi. The cat adored Hiroshi, but like all kittens he was prone to playing without paying attention. Better to let him paw at Deer who was sufficiently sized. Besides, Riku had been watching and entertaining the kitten for 3 days. It was Deer’s turn.

Hiroshi smiled. “Good. It was fun to get out of the village. Megumi and Kana are fun.”

Deer nodded. “So how bad was the bandit problem?”

Hiroshi rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t consider 6 dumb teenagers a bandit problem.”

Deer burst out laughing.

“You should have seen their faces,” Hiroshi snickered. “The little shits thought they had a good thing going, robbing their own parents’ caravans for spending money. They had no idea the town pooled money for shinobi. One of them wet himself when Kana jumped out of a tree.”

Deer laughed harder. Deer knew that as the parental figure, he should probably not encourage cursing, Hiroshi was only 11 afterall, but Deer had learned quickly to pick his battles and that one wasn’t worth fighting.

Besides, in Deer’s eyes, Hiroshi had earned the right to swear on occasion somewhere 2 A-rank and half a dozen B-rank missions back. 

Plus, there was something about an eleven year old calling a bunch of teenage punks “little shits” that was hysterical. 

“I’m sure they were thrilled to find out the anbu who kicked their asses were younger than them,” Deer remarked. He tried to ruffled Hiroshi’s hair and the boy ducked.

“I’m sure they didn’t know,” Hiroshi said.

“You’re a little short for an anbu,” Deer pointed out.

Hiroshi elbowed him in the side and they both laughed. 

“You get checked out after the mission?” Deer asked.

Hiroshi rolled his eyes again. “Yes Dad,” he teased. “I’m fine. I got a sliver in my foot from the hotel floor, but I’d already dug it out before we got home.”

Deer winced. For whatever reason, slivers were the one injury that made him shudder. The feeling of something buried under his skin just set him on edge. Hiroshi was well aware of this.

“Did  _ you  _ get checked out?” Hiroshi fired back.

“I will in the morning. A couple bumps and bruises aren’t worth the emergency clinic at 3AM.”

Hiroshi glared. 

“Seriously, I’m fine. I’ve got like one bruise on my hip from hip-checking this mountain of a guy. It kind of looks like the second Hokage.”

Hiroshi’s eyes lit up. “Can I see? I’ll show you my sliver. I saved it because it was huge.”

Deer stood up and pulled his shirt up and nudged his pants down lower on his hips. 

The bruise in question was of fairly impressive size. It’d take 2 hands to cover the whole thing and it bore a faint resemblance to a man’s profile with spiky hair.

“That’s pretty wicked,” Hiroshi agreed. He hopped off the couch and ran to his room to retrieve his splinter.

Deer let himself smirk while Hiroshi wasn’t around to see it. It had taken a while for the kid to come out of his shell, but when he did, it turned out he was one wonderfully weird little dude. He came home from every mission with some sort of souvenir. The oddest, Deer thought, was a gross, sweaty sandal a bounty had lost during their pursuit of him.

Hiroshi had the shoe on his bookshelf in a place of honor beside dozens of cool rocks, bird feathers, a small travel pillow, an empty perfume bottle shaped like a swan, and a couple jars of dirt.

Hiroshi returned with a handkerchief and handed it to Deer.

Deer unwrapped the splinter and snorted. The splinter was really a hunk of wood with a narrow tapered point. “Dude! It’s basically a wooden kunai. That’s not a sliver.”

Hiroshi burst out laughing. “It didn’t go in very deep and I let the medic clean the cut out when we got home. Megumi was really impressed.” 

Deer rolled his eyes, re-wrapped the hunk of wood, and passed it back to his charge. Hiroshi was at the age where he really liked to show off. He fed off praise and attention and Deer tried hard to never be stingy with either, but he did tease. “Was she impressed with the splinter or your pain tolerance?”

Hiroshi shrugged. “Splinters aren’t so bad.”

“Yeah, nah. If I got something like this in my foot, I’d just cut my losses and remove the whole foot.”

The exaggeration had Hiroshi in stitches until a yawn drowned out the laughter.

“Alright, bedtime,” Deer ordered. “You can tell me all about your mission when I get back from the clinic.”

Hiroshi protested. “I want to hear about your mission. I’ve never met a famous person before. Why’d a poet need anbu bodyguards?”

Deer pat Hiroshi’s head like he’d done Riku’s earlier. “Later. We both need sleep.”

Hiroshi groaned. “The suspense is going to kill me.” 

“No it won’t.”

Hiroshi raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a challenge.” Then he flopped over onto Deer’s lap, closed his eyes, and stuck his tongue out.

Deer nudged the kid. 

Hiroshi remained boneless and limp in his lap. 

Deer looked at Riku. “Oh no!” Deer said in false panic. “I killed Hiroshi.”

“Murp,” Riku grumbled. He was well used to the human kitten’s theatrics and had been fooled by this trick several times.

Deer gasped. “You’re right! I need to check for a pulse.”

The older anbu poked and prodded Hiroshi’s ribs. “I can’t find a pulse,” he declared in mock horror and continued to poke, prod, and tickle Hiroshi until the boy was in hysterics laughing squirming trying to escape.

Hiroshi managed to flop off of the couch and gasped for breath, still laughing.

“Look, Riku! It’s a miracle!” Deer cheered.

Riku chirped his agreement.

“Now bedtime,” Deer nudged Hiroshi with his toe.

Hiroshi groaned. “Fine, but can you read me a story first?” He looked up at Deer and pouted.

Deer relented. “But in bed.”

Hiroshi grinned and hopped up off the floor with a grace that didn’t match his childish excitement. “I got a new book from the library. It’s about the history of the chuunin exams in Iwa. They have their survival portion in this series of underground caverns. One cavern is full of these crystals that glow in the dark.”

Hiroshi chattered the whole way to his room and while he dug the book out of his backpack. He handed it to Deer and climbed into bed as per their agreement.

Deer sat on the edge of the bed and flipped to the bookmark. It was the first page of a first-hand account of the survival portion of the exam.

Riku made himself a place on Deer’s lap.

Hiroshi was asleep in less than 2 minutes and the cat moved from his spot with Deer to reclaim his favorite sleeping spot on Hiroshi’s head.

Deer smiled at the duo. Sure, they weren’t a conventional family. Most kids fell asleep to fairy tales, not first hand-accounts of bloody fights. But, they were making it work and overall, Deer thought it was going pretty well.

Deer dropped into his own bed with a grateful sigh.

He’d spent the last 10 days escorting a cantankerous old man through the backwoods of Ame. Apparently the man had released a book of poems about the last war and they’d sold very well. He could afford the best protection for his inspirational excursions to remote waterfalls and active battlefields.

This time, that protection had been Deer.

Deer hadn't known the man's name or works and had received shit for it the entire trip.

The anbu went in expecting an easy mission, some hiking, some poetry or stories around the fire, and a generally pleasant trip. Afterall, the client was like 80. How spry could the man really be and how many enemies could he really have?

2 days in, they were scaling vertical cliff faces in the rain.

5 days in they were running for their life with an angry mob on their heels. 

The part of Ame they’d been traveling was under the control of a wannabe warlord and gang of thugs. Word of their famous guest and his anbu had eventually reached the warlord who figured he deserved a cut of the trip's potential profits.

The thugs he sent to collect didn’t like being told to “get the fuck out of my way! You’re nothing but a pack of undersized, half-starved coyotes. You possess none of the decency and honor of the wolf on your stolen heraldry and just looking at you is giving me mange.”

In the end, the poet had been returned safely to his home in the Fire Daimyo's court and Deer was gifted a signed copy of his first book. “You may have no taste in poetry, but you’re a good sort. Handy in a scrape.”

Deer was more exhausted than he’d been in years. 

  
His last thought before drifting off to sleep was,  _ It’s good to be home. _


	9. Chapter 9

At 12, Nori was somewhere between a child and a teenager. Her round face still had traces of baby fat and it gave her dimples when she smiled. Depending on the available materials and how much time she had, she could make herself appear anywhere between 8 and 18. She was friendly and charming and her skill with disguise was nothing short of a gift.

Danzou had loved how her natural abilities and her specialized training made her the perfect undercover operative. 

Seiko loved how much Nori smiled. 

At the moment, the girl in question was smiling unconsciously at the salon’s new stock of nail polish

“Anything you like?” Seiko asked.

Nori couldn’t seem to tear her eyes off the rows upon rows of little glass bottles.

Nori nodded. “Too many.” 

“How many is too many?”

Nori flashed Seiko a very different sort of grin. This one looked like trouble. “Like 20 of them.”

Seiko laughed. “If you’re going to buy 20 different colors of nail polish all at once, you better paint every nail a different color.”

Nori giggled. “That’d look pretty funny.” She picked up a dark green that shimmered iridescent in the sunlight and held it out to Seiko. “They used to make this color by crushing beetle wings. Now, they can make it out of this flower from Suna.”

“Haru tell you that?” Seiko asked. She accepted the bottle and looked closer at the color. The iridescent sheen really did remind her of the sort of beetle you found someplace tropical.

Nori nodded and went back to admiring the different bottles.

Seiko added the bottle of green polish to her shopping basket. The first time she’d brought Nori along to meet Haru, Seiko had been nervous. What if they didn’t get along? What if one thought the other was weird? Seiko would have to side with Nori. They were family now, afterall, but the thought of losing her friendship with Haru made Seiko’s stomach drop.

They’d sat down for dinner with Nori and Seiko on one side of the table and Haru across from them. 

Nori and Haru had looked at each other for a long moment, then Nori pulled a glass jar out of her bag and set it on the table. 

“So I found this weird bug on a mission. Do you know what it is?”

Seiko only mostly suppressed a snicker. She’d wondered why Nori had been so careful with her bag on the way to the restaurant.

Haru picked up the jar and frowned at the bug. It had 6 legs, a long, flat body, 2 wicked looking pincers on its head, and what could be a stinger on its butt. “No idea, but it is a weird bug.” He held the jar right up to his face and squinted through the grass. “It almost looks like some kind of evil cricket.”

“Really?” Nori sounded incredulous.

“Yeah. I think the stinger looking thing is actually an ovipositor. Did you see some that didn’t have stingers?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll look next time!” Nori declared. “What’s an ovipositor?”

It was the start of a really beautiful, if odd friendship.

Two weeks after that, Haru had arrived at the pharmacy to his supervisor all worked up and a package on his desk.

“There was an anbu here,” the supervisor said. He said it like a question.

Haru had just waved the man off and reached for the box.

Haru opened the box to find 2 glass jars, one jar had an evil looking cricket with a stinger-like appendage and the other had a similar evil looking cricket without a stinger-like appendage. “It’s an ovipositor, but I told my teammate it was a stinger so he’d stop trying to squish them. Also, they don’t bite nearly as hard as they look like they should.”

\---

Seiko and Nori left the store with 3 bottles of nail polish and the makeup Seiko needed for her next mission.

The pair wandered the civilian part of the city for a few hours. Nori kept a running commentary on the different fashions they saw.

Walking side by side, the 2 anbu could have been sisters. They shared the same dark brown hair and wore it the same way (loose, just past their shoulders). 

Seiko was wearing a flowy sundress. No one could see the kunai holster on her thigh, but it was in easy reach through a modified pocket. 

Nori was wearing a white shirt and pink skirt. Like the older anbu she was far from unarmed and the clothes wouldn’t hamper her movements in a fight. Not that Nori was all that worried about a fight. 

Seiko was perpetually in awe of how quickly Nori seemed to heal. Sure, the girl woke up crying some nights, but Seiko was always there to stroke her hair and chase away the lingering demons and come sunrise, there was a smile on Nori’s face. 

Maybe it was because Nori’d come to Root when she was older, taken at 11 from an orphanage on the border with grass country. Whatever the reason, the two had found that they balanced each other well. Seiko was cautious and experienced, kind despite the life she’d lived. Nori was bold and reckless, unbroken by a life that should have crushed her.

When they stopped for lunch at the cafe, Nori chatted with the waitress. 

Seiko just smiled and sipped her tea. Nori’s outgoing personality wasn’t so much an act as it was her natural personality and she had been allowed to keep it, because it was an asset for spies like them. 

In the months Seiko had been Nori’s guardian, the older anbu decided Danzou had made a critical miscalculation. Nori was the sort of shinobi who should under no circumstances go undercover. Nori made friends easily and she genuinely liked people. Undercover work, the lies and betrayals it entailed, would destroy her.

After lunch, the shopping continued. 

When they came to the clothes shops, Nori had her face all but pressed against the glass. Fashion was her specialty-- picking it, sewing, and wearing it all came naturally. Danzou had seen her interest and cultivated it as a skill. Even applying her passion to an anbu’s life hadn’t managed to steal the joy from Nori.

“You know we can go in,” Seiko reminded Nori with a smile. “We’re going to need more civilian clothes if we’re going to build a life outside of work.” They were both still adjusting to their freedom.

Nori flashed a wicked grin over her shoulder. It was the sort Seiko associated with the moment in a fight that you knew you had your opponent right where you wanted them. 

5 stores later, both girls were carrying a handful of bags and Nori was sporting a headband with embroidered flowers. 

“I bet you could make that,” Seiko said with a nod towards the headband.

Nori smiled. “Oh I’m definitely going to try. I’ve not seen petals done this way before. Flowers are in this year. They were all the rage in the Daimyo's Court last year and the village is usually about a year behind in terms of trends,” Nori informed Seiko.

Seiko just smiled. 

As they walked, Seiko found herself thinking of the first night after Nori’d moved in.

The memory of that night always brought a warm feeling to Seiko’s chest. Danzou took her first family, but he’d also unintentionally given her a new one. 

They’d been setting up the furniture in Nori’s room and Seiko had opened a box full of cloth scraps and embroidery supplies. Nori had been quick to explain it was just scrap material for missions and practice sewing. 

“The ability to alter your own wardrobe undercover and get the details just right can be make or break,” Nori babbled as she all but yanked the box back from Seiko. Despite her words, Nori held the box to her chest like it meant something. 

“It’s okay to have things just because you like them,” Seiko said. 

Nori looked at Seiko like the older girl had sprouted 2 heads.

“I’m serious,” Seiko promised. “It’s okay.”

Nori chewed on her lip and then set the box back on the floor between them. She unpacked the box slowly. At the bottom, under the other scraps were pieces of cloth embroidered with flowers and poems. A half finished dress was carefully folded, so that the pins stayed in place. “I like sewing. It’s relaxing.”

Seiko nodded and peered into the box. “I don’t know much about sewing or embroidery and less about fashion than I should.” She laughed a bit. “I’ve always trusted mission control to have handled that research. Maybe you could teach me?”

Nori’s face had lit up then. “And maybe you could teach me to do my makeup better? I’ve read books, but it’s not the same as having someone actually teach you.”

Seiko spotted one embroidered scrap with a poem by Basho on it. 

“The summer grasses.

All that remains

Of warriors’ dreams.”

“I know it’s silly, but it always reminds me of Konoha,” Nori admitted when Seiko picked it up.

“I have that exact same poem on a scroll. I take it with me on every mission for that exact same reason,” Seiko said.

The two of them ended up on Nori’s bed surrounded by embroidered swatches and Seiko’s calligraphy. 

“So how’d you get into calligraphy?” Nori asked. It seemed an odd skill for an anbu.

Seiko shrugged. “I learned before Root and picked it back up after I graduated. I find it soothing. It’s nice to get lost in the motions and the words and it’s nice to create when so much of our job entails destruction.” 

Nori just stared at Seiko as if the older girl had said the most profound thing in the world.

As the night wore on, Nori started to talk more. The two ended their first day together swapping stories while the older girl smeared charcoal paste on both their faces. “It’s good for your skin,” she insisted.

Nori just thought they looked hysterical.

\---

“What are you thinking about?” Nori asked. She nudged Seiko. The older anbu had zoned out looking in a shop window.

Seiko slung an arm over Nori’s shoulders and smiled. “Just thinking how lucky I am to have you around.”

Nori beamed.


	10. Chapter 10

Tenzou knew something was wrong when noon came and went without a knock on the door. Sai never waited later than 10AM to drag Tenzou to the training grounds. 

Tenzou only waited until noon, because the kid had returned from a mission late the night before. Sleeping in wouldn’t be odd. 

Tenzou slipped across the hall and knocked lightly on Sai’s door. 

There was no response. 

Tenzou knocked louder this time.

Still no response.

“Sai?” Tenzou called and knocked again. He could feel Sai’s chakra signature in the apartment.

When there was still no response, Tenzou acted without thinking. It only took a trickle of chakra to adjust the wooden door frame enough for the door to swing open despite the lock. 

Sai’s apartment was a loft style, just big enough for a single occupant and sparsely furnished. The main room had a large desk and twin bed that resembled a cot more than a real bed. Tenzou had never seen Sai use the bed and the blankets were always neatly folded. From observation, Tenzou had decided Sai spent more time at the desk than anywhere else, painting and writing mission reports. 

The only decorations were a small philodendron, a gift from Tenzou, that made its home on the only window ledge and an unrolled scroll tacked to the wall. The scroll had a famous quote from the 4th hokage on it in flowing calligraphy.

When Tenzou stepped into Sai’s apartment, it took a couple seconds for his eyes to adjust. The apartment was pitch black. The heavy curtains were pulled closed and all the lights were off.

When his eyes adjusted, Tenzou swallowed hard. The room was a mess. The blankets were strewn across the floor. There was a pile of clothes just inside the threshold door and Sai’s go bag had been dropped haphazardly halfway between the door and the bed. Sai’s chakra paint kit and his sketchbook had spilled out. There was no sign of Sai. Sai never left the sketchbook in the open, let alone on the floor. 

A cold sensation ran down Tenzou’s spine and his throat clenched as thoughts he refused to acknowledge made their presence in his mind known.

“Sai?” Tenzou called again. His voice was strangled and off even to his own ears.

Tenzou thought he heard a faint whimper and moved quickly. The only part of the apartment not already in view was the bathroom. 

In his mind, Tenzou was picturing Sai getting home from a mission, injured and too tired to deal with the hospital. Then the field dressing failing in the night. Sai was terrible about taking care of himself and it wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t report an injury (although the other anbu had ratted him out every other time).

Tenzou pulled the bathroom door open and was hit with the acidic smell of vomit. “Sai?”

“I made a mess.” Sai’s voice was small.

Tenzou hit the light switch.

Sai whimpered.

Tenzou finally saw him, curled up in the bottom of the tub in his underwear. There was vomit beside the toilet and in the toilet and between the toilet and tub. 

Sai was paler than normal, sweating profusely, and shaking like a leaf.

Tenzou stepped around the vomit and knelt down by the tub. 

Sai squeezed his eyes shut tight against the light.

Tenzou brushed the hair away from the kid’s sweaty forehead. There was no doubt he had a fever. “Talk to me,” Tenzou urged. 

“Sick. Head hurts. Light bad,” Sai mumbled. He shifted away from Tenzou and buried his face in the crook of his arm. “ ‘S too hot an’ too cold.” 

Then Sai sat bolt upright and leaned over the side of the tub to wretch. All that came up was a bit of bile.

Tenzou put a hand on Sai’s back and rubbed until the boy stopped shaking. 

“How long have you been sick?”

Sai just shook his head and flopped back in the tub, boneless.

Tenzou surveyed the situation. 

Sai’d been getting sick for a while if nothing was left in his stomach. He had a fever and was likely dehydrated.

“Hold on just a minute. I’ll be right back,” Tenzou promised. He ran back to Sai’s kitchen and grabbed the phone off the wall. If Sai were an adult, Tenzou would just keep an eye on him here, but Sai wasn’t an adult. He was 8 and very very small curled up in the bathtub.

“Konoha Hospital,” a woman answered on the second right.

“Can I speak to a nurse or doctor?” Tenzou asked. “My kid’s sick and I don’t know if he needs to come in.”

“Sure, Hon. Give me one sec and I’ll transfer you to the nurse on-call.”

Tenzou shifted impatiently. The phone cord wasn’t long enough for him to see the bathroom and have the phone in hand.

“Hello. This is Natsuko. How can I help you?”

“My kid’s sick. He’s been puking most of the night and has a high fever. Should I bring him into the emergency room?” 

The nurse noticed the odd emphasis on “my” and the genuine panic in Tenzou’s voice. Her first thought was,  _ new dad. _

“Can you tell me how old he is sir?”

“8.”

_ Different sort of new dad, but I’m still betting on new dad. _ “Any hallucinations? Is he able to talk and coherent?”

“I don’t think he’s mostly coherent. I don’t know.” Tenzou winced. He should have insisted Sai wake him up when he got back. He should have checked earlier. 

“Shinobi?” The nurse asked.

“Yeah. We both are.”

“Have either of you been out of the village recently.”

“He just got back from a mission by the western border with Iwa.”

“Okay, sir. We’ve had several shinobi come in with similar symptoms and after missions in the same area. They’ve all had a nasty, but short lived strain of the flu. Good news is, as long as he’s not delirius, and you can get him to keep down fluids, this will run its course without needing to come to the hospital.”

“Are you sure? He’s so warm.” Tenzou knew he sounded a bit hysterical, but he couldn’t help it. He’d seen Sai in the tub and for a heartbeat thought he was dead. He was so pale.

The nurse was patient. “You can bring him in, but at this point it’s probably better to keep him home, wrap him up in a blanket and make sure he gets fluids and rest. If he can’t keep fluids down or he still has a fever tonight, you should bring him in.”

“Thank you,” Tenzou breathed.

“Anytime. It’s what we’re here for.”

Tenzou hung up and darted back to check on Sai. 

It appeared Sai had slipped into an uneasy sleep. His eyes twitched under his eyelids and his fists clenched and unclenched.

“Hey,” Tenzou murmured. “Hey buddy.”

Sai opened his eyes and winced. 

“Easy,” Tenzou soothed. “Can we clean you up a bit and get you some medicine?”

Sai didn’t say anything, but he let Tenzou sit him up against the wall of the tub furthest from the faucet. 

Tenzou ran the faucet until the water was warm and used a washcloth to clean the dried vomit off of Sai’s face and chin. He dabbed gently and narrated what he was doing in a low voice.

Sai just sat there with his eyes closed, shivering.

Tenzou worked quickly. 

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” Tenzou asked.

Sai nodded.

Tenzou slid an arm under the boy’s knees and another behind his back and scooped the kid up. It bothered him how little Sai weighed.

Tenzou wasn’t sure if Sai’s blankets were clean or if he’d been sick before making it to the bathroom, so he didn’t bother to grab any of them. 

In the living room, Tenzou spotted Sai’s sketchbook. It was awkward with his arms full of kid, but Tenzou figured out how to kneel down and grab the book with the hand under Sai’s knees. Sai never let the book out of his sight. Tenzou wasn’t going to leave it behind.

Tenzou carried Sai across the hall to his apartment. He dropped the sketchbook on the coffee table and set Sai on the couch nearby. “I’m going to go grab you some blankets,” Tenzou explained.

When Tenzou got back a minute later with a whole stack of blankets and a small trash can, Sai had grabbed the book off the table and was holding it to his chest.

Tenzou smiled sadly. He set the trashcan on the floor by Sai’s head.

“Let’s wrap you up, help the fever do its job.”

Sai mumbled something unintelligible. 

When Tenzou tried to tuck a blanket around the kid, Sai struggled. He twisted and flailed against the couch and clutched the book tighter. 

“I’m not trying to take it,” Tenzou promised. He wasn’t sure if Sai heard and understood or if he just gave up fighting, but the kid let Tenzou turn him into a blanket burrito.

“Alright last thing and then you can rest,” Tenzou promised. “I need you to drink some water and I brought some pills to help with the headache. Do you think you can swallow them?” 

Sai was shaking so bad, Tenzou didn’t trust him to hold a glass of water. 

“Here,” Tenzou said, holding out the pills. 

Sai opened his mouth obediently and swallowed the pills before Tenzou got the glass to Sai’s lips.

Sai sipped the water Tenzou held for him without complaint. 

When the water was gone, Tenzou set the glass on the table. 

Sai was watching. His dark eyes were glassy and unfocused.

Tenzou ruffled the boy’s hair and Sai leaned into the touch. “Don’t go.” The words were so soft, Tenzou wasn’t totally sure he’d heard them.

“I won’t leave you. I’ve got you,” Tenzou promised. His voice was steady and calm, but his eyes were full of tears. 

Tenzou ended up sitting in the armchair beside the couch and stroking Sai’s hair until the kid dozed off. 

Sai slept most of the day, but it wasn’t good sleep. He thrashed on the couch and woke up often.

Tenzou made sure that whenever the kid was awake, he drank more water. Around dinner time, the older anbu managed to coaxs Sai into drinking some chicken broth and he managed to keep it down. 

Early in the evening, Sai’s fever broke and he slipped into a restful sleep at last.

\---

Sai woke up crying. He couldn’t breath and the blanket around him felt like restraints. 

Tenzou woke up to a loud thump and a sobbing child on the floor.

Tenzou helped Sai out from the cocoon of blankets.

Sai was shaking and hyperventilating. He flinched at Tenzou’s hands on him, but didn’t resist when Tenzou pulled him into the armchair and held him close.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay,” Tenzou promised. His voice was rough with sleep and there was a terrible crick in his neck from sleeping in the chair.

Sai let Tenzou hold him for several long minutes until his breathing had evened back out and sobbs no longer shook his whole body.

When Sai pulled away, Tenzou let him go. He didn’t feel feverish anymore, which was a relief, but the night terror was a concerning development.

Sai went straight back to the floor and dug through the blankets until he came up with his sketchbook in hand.

The 2 anbu stared at each other for a minute.

“You didn’t need to stay with me,” Sai said.

Tenzou snorted. “Yeah I did. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

Sai nodded and sat back on the couch. Hesitantly he pulled one of the blankets up off the floor. He kept glancing at Tenzou like he was asking permission.

“Go back to sleep,” Tenzou said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Sai stared for another minute before doing as he was told.

\---

The next time Sai woke up, it was a gentle thing. Sunlight filtered into Tenzou’s apartment through the plants lining his window and balcony and birdsong was audible through the open window.

“You hungry? I’ve got some plain oatmeal that would be gentle on your stomach.”

Sai blinked in confusion.

The last 2 days were hazy, like some sort of a dream. Waking up on Tenzou’s couch was unexpected. Seeing Tenzou in the armchair working on anbu paperwork was more unexpected. 

“You have a meeting with the council of elders every Tuesday at 9AM,” Sai said. 

“Yes?”

“It’s 9:30.” Sai pointed to the clock on the wall.

“Told them I couldn’t come. My kid’s sick.” Tenzou set his paperwork on the coffee table. “I did send Megumi as my proxy, so they can’t complain too much. How about that oatmeal?”

Sai’s stomach growled and he nodded.

Tenzou got up and disappeared to the kitchen.

Sai took the opportunity to evaluate the situation unseen. He remembered the trip back to the village. He hadn’t been hungry and there’d been a headache building behind his eyes. He remembered waking up and the darkness being filled with bright spots and fuzzy patches of color, his head throbbing and his stomach clenching. He remembered making a mess in his bathroom, mostly. There were gaps. He didn’t remember crawling in the tub, just Tenzou turning on the light and being there.

Tenzou, his anbu commander, had cleaned vomit off of him. Sai was mortified.

Things got fuzzier after that. Fever dreams overlapping with reality. Had Tenzou stayed by his side all night and stroked his hair? Or had that been a half forgotten memory leaking into a dream?

Sai did remember waking up crying.

Tenzou came back with 2 bowls of oatmeal.

They ate in silence. 

Sai didn’t look at Tenzou. He just stared at the garden mural on the wall.

“How are you feeling?” Tenzou asked.

“Better. Tired. Weak.” 

The clipped, emotionless reply made Tenzou frown. Mentally he berated himself for being disappointed. If Sai was back to his regular prickly self, it was a good thing.

The silence stretched.

“I do like it,” Sai blurted out. 

Tenzou blinked in surprise. “Oatmeal?”

Sai winced. “No. I mean yes, but…” The kid trailed off and stared at the bowl in his lap in frustration.

“It’s okay,” Tenzou promised, not sure what had suddenly gone wrong.

Sai bit his lip and let out a little huff through his nose. “Last night, you said ‘Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.’” Sai said each word carefully, like he was afraid they’d be misheard. “I like it.”

Tenzou’s eyes widened and he froze with a spoonful of oatmeal halfway to his mouth. It slid back into the bowl and the plop jolted Tenzou out of his shock.

Sai just kept eating.

Tenzou’s face softened. “Thank you, Sai. I like it too.”

Sai nodded. When he finished, he set his bowl on the coffee table and picked up his sketchbook.

The kid traced the stitching of the binding with one finger. “Does it scare you too?” he asked. “Liking it.” Sai licked his lips. “Liking people?” Sai was very purposefully not looking at Tenzou.

Tenzou looked Sai over with appraising eyes. 

In the morning light, Sai was still too pale, but Tenzou thought it looked more like the sort of pale that came from wearing a mask than the sort of sickly pallor he’d had the day before.

Sai shifted and pulled the blanket up around his shoulder. He was small for his age and his bones stuck out just a bit too much.

Sai would likely always be on the smaller side. It was a consequence of inadequate nutrition early on and damage to his growth plates from too much training too early. No one could say how much of the damage was done before he ended up in Root. Sai didn’t remember a life before Root.

But despite it all, Sai wasn’t as fragile as he looked. Tenzou knew the kid was strong, had the bruises from training to prove it, and he was fiercely stubborn. 

In the daylight, with Sai sitting on the couch, Tenzou could let himself process the things that had run through his mind the day before. “Yeah. It scares me. You gave me a heart attack yesterday. I knew you were in the apartment somewhere. I could feel your chakra, but when I couldn’t find you… Liking things is scary, because you might lose them. The thought of losing you terrifies me,” Tenzou admitted.

Sai nodded and the faintest smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I lied to you.”

“Shocker,” Tenzou muttered.

Sai ignored the sarcasm. He pointed at the mural. “It does mean something.” 

Tenzou didn’t know what to say to that, so he just waited to see if Sai would explain.

“The flowers in the foreground are chrysanthemum. In the code of flowers, they mean ‘I support you or I will always be there for you.’ I made them yellow, because it’s the color of friendship and affection.” Sai paused and looked at Tenzou. “You’re a yellow chrysanthemum. The little green nub on the ground is me. I don’t know what sort of sprout I’ll be yet. The rest of the garden represents everyone else in Root, the rest of your Sprouts.”

Tenzou couldn’t stop the tears that ran down his face. He scrubbed at them with the back of his hands, but it was a losing battle. 

“Sorry,” Sai mumbled. “I’m not good with words.”

Tenzou shook his head. “They’re happy tears,” he choked out. 

Sai frowned, but decided this was not the time to point at that happy tears were something of an oxymoron. Instead, he scooted on the couch, so that he was within arm’s reach of Tenzou and patted the older anbu on the shoulder.

  
Tenzou smiled, but cried harder. 

It was at that point that there was a knock on the door.

Tenzou froze. “Today’s the second Tuesday.”

“Yes,” Sai confirmed.

“There’s a Root meeting here.”

“Yes.”

“Now?” Tenzou asked. His voice higher than normal.

“Yes.”

“Shit.” Tenzou sniffled.

Sai looked at his commander. The man’s eyes were red and puffy and he was wearing sweatpants. Then Sai glanced between Tenzou and the door. “I’ll get it,” Sai offered.

“Thanks,” Tenzou mumbled, frantically drying his face on his shirt.

Sai slid off the couch and made his way to the door still wearing a blanket like a cape. He opened the door to find a familiar pair of anbu. “Himitsu, Deer,” Sai greeted.

“You don’t look so hot,” Himitsu said. 

“I was sick.”

“You better?” Himistu frowned. 

Sai nodded. “I think I broke the commander.”

Himitsu raised an eyebrow. Sai stepped aside, so the anbu could see Tenzou who was trying to trade his now tear stained shirt for a clean one. 

“I thought the whole point of you answering was so that I didn’t embarrass myself,” Tenzou accused. 

Himitsu looked at Deer and the masked anbu nodded. 

“I’ll get the cat.” Deer set off back down the hallway and Himitsu stepped inside.

\---

20 minutes later, Seiko and her charge, Nori, arrived with boxes of pastries. They sat on the floor by Tenzou’s coffee table and Seiko started to paint Nori’s nails a blinding shade of pink.

Namiyo showed up later in civilian clothes with grass stained knees and mud on his shirt, all excited about scoring a goal or something. He was talking so fast Tenzou couldn’t really follow.

Deer returned with Riku-the-Cat who split his time between eating Tenzou’s countertop herb garden and being spoiled by his adoring fans.

Megumi arrived on Tenzou’s balcony with a plastic bag from the local grocery store in hand. When Tenzou let her in, she went straight for the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove. “Hot chocolate,” she said as if that explained everything.

Kana came next, but unlike her mentor, she used the door. She joined Nori and Seiko on the floor with the nail polish.

When Tenzou opened the door for Bird and Boar.

Bird put a small, potted cactus in Tenzou’s hands, mumbled “Souvenir from Suna,” and stepped past him to pet Riku.

Boar grunted a greeting and patted Tenzou on the shoulder before going after the pastries.

In the chaos, Sai had snuck back to his apartment and returned dressed, showered, and looking much more alive

Within the hour, Tenzou’s apartment was full of Root anbu. None of them asked if he was alright or if he needed anything, but Megumi put the first mug of hot chocolate into Tenzou’s hands, so he figured she at least knew something was up.

With a shrug, Tenzou decided to roll with it. He grabbed a pastry and sat on the couch beside Boar.

Nori and Seiko were telling a story about their latest mission, escorting the Daimyo's oldest daughter on a diplomatic mission, that had everyone laughing.

Tenzou found himself thinking it was easy to be around these people. His people. His friends.  _ We’ve all come a long way _ , he thought. Sure, they all had their quirks, but they also had each other’s backs. 

Tenzou’s heart felt lighter than it had in months, possibly ever. 

The Roots really had sent up new sprouts without someone to mow them down. What they’d all become, how they’d grow and bloom, remained to be seen, and Tenzou thought that was pretty damn exciting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap folks. The kids are going to be alright. Thank you to everyone who's joined me on this journey. I know OC heavy stories have a bit of a stigma and I never expected so many people to fall in love with these characters the same way I did. Your encouragement and support has meant a lot and I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Some of these characters might make cameos in the main story of The Pack (Deer, Hiroshi, and Riku the Cat already did) and while I don't have any other stories for these characters plotted out at this point, I won't say never in regards to them getting more words on a page.
> 
> Again, thank you! Hope you are all well and safe in these crazy times.

**Author's Note:**

> This came out sadder/darker than I originally envisioned it. Hopefully I ended it on a hopeful enough note. Future chapter shouldn't be this heavy. I used this one to establish what sort of mental state the Root anbu are in shortly after Tenzou takes over as commander and I won't beat you over the head with it every chapter. 
> 
> Planning on probably 10 chapters. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I am not an expert on mental health and treatment methods


End file.
